


Triangular

by hopelessandromantic



Category: Dream Daddy: A Dad Dating Simulator
Genre: Adulthood, Angst, Cute, Drama, Drama & Romance, Fluff, M/M, Romance, implicit sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-21
Updated: 2017-12-07
Packaged: 2019-01-03 20:23:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 14
Words: 27,338
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12154122
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hopelessandromantic/pseuds/hopelessandromantic
Summary: Christopher (Dadsona) can't resist spending time with his neighbor and friend, Robert.





	1. The Sleepover

It has been two weeks since Amanda's graduation party, the last time I saw Robert. It was then that he told me how he felt about our relationship. Though I was disappointed, as I had been trying to make a move on him for quite a while now, I do understand that he needs time and I appreciate that he wants to improve himself before fully entering my life.

Amanda left yesterday morning. After triple-checking that she had all of her college necessities, I finally let go. I watched her pull out of the driveway for the very last time for a while, the world seemingly slowing down in the wake of her wheels. I have been in a daze since then, mindlessly doing absolutely nothing, and this evening I really need company. I tap out a message as quickly as my dad fingers can.

8:58 p.m. "Hey rob. You doing anything?" I don't have to wait long before he replies, which is surprising.

"uhh i guess not. sup?"

"I'm pretty bored right now. Want to come over and watch a movie or something?"

I press send, eager for his response. Thirty seconds pass. I sit down on my bed, still staring into the bright screen on my phone. Thirty more seconds. I set my phone down on my bedside table, still lost in its glare. Maybe he's busy... he could be... watering his plants. Wait, who am I kidding. The man is not responsible enough to own plants. Well, he does have Betsy. She seems to be in good condition. In fact, she seems rather happy with her life. Maybe he is fit to have plants? I continue to humor myself with this mindless banter, imagining silly things about Robert's private life for a full five minutes. I jump when I hear the piercing ring of a message on my phone.

9:06 p.m. "omw"? What on earth is that supposed to mean? Did he have a typing accident?

When I hear the grumbling truck engine outside my window, I can't help but smile. My heart flutters as I see a large shadow cast through my front windows.

"let me in or i'll starve to death out here"

I open the door with a grand flourish to be met with the man I have been dreaming about for two weeks straight. I look up at his dark and carved face, getting lost in it. His stormy and sulking eyes seem to be so adrift, unsure of what lies ahead and afraid to cope with it. Though he is smiling (as much as he does), I see that he is going through something rough. It makes me want to tightly hug him, lay him down, kiss him—wait. I can't. We are just friends right now. Friends that support each other.

"Aren't you happy to see me?" he coaxed with a teasing tone.

"No," I chimed back, trying hard to suppress a giggle. I begin to open my arms to invite him into a hug, but then notice that he is holding a large red duffel bag in one hand and a worn blanket in the other. "Those your killing tools?" I asked, nodding at the bag.

"Yes, if the night goes right." His playful and joking eyes suddenly darted around in embarrassment. "You don't mind if I spend the night, do you?" At first I am ecstatic; this is the closest I have ever been to—...then I realize that we can't. I would get too excited, and things would go wrong. I want to maintain the healthy friendship that we already have. But... maybe just for tonight. Friends have sleepovers too, right?

"Of course not! Just don't kill anything."

"No promises."

Instead of offering a hug, I just wave him in. He follows me to the living room, and I notice that he is taking his time with observing everything. I then realize that this is his first time being in my space. He sets his duffel bag down on the carpet next to the couch and takes a seat. He lets out a sigh, closes his eyes, and his relaxes his whole body. I am still standing there like an idiot, just taking in the sight of this man in his most pure state. I sit down on the armchair across from him, preserving the silence. I'm staring at him again: his bushy and furrowed brows, his large and well-structured nose. The way his dark skin sits neatly on his skull, and—did he shave? I notice that his scruff is cleaner, and has more of a shape to it.

"What?" he drawls, noticing that I'm staring.

"Nothing. How are you? I haven't seen you in a while."

"I'm okay. Just been thinking about a lot. Learning a lot from the books."

"I'm glad, Rob. I really am. But, why didn't you reach out to me? You know that I'm always here to talk." I see that he becomes uncomfortable.

"I uh... sorry. I just got caught up in my own world. I promise that I still know you exist. And don't call me Rob."

"Good, Rob." I shoot him a warm smile. He glares back at me for some time, then his face breaks. He's smiling too. The moment becomes a little tense, so I get up and rush to the TV. "Any movie preferences?"

"Anything that I can fall asleep to," he half-jokingly says. I quickly scan through my library of DVDs and find just the right one. A soft and heartwarming film, with an exciting plot but a calming overtone. I think he would love this one. "I hate this one," he grunted. "Kidding."

"Something to drink?" I ask as I make my way over to the kitchen.

"I'm uh, actually trying to work on going sober right now," he mumbles. I freeze in my tracks. How stupid of me! I didn't even think about that. Oh my god, I'm so proud of him! I could just cry right now over how much I have seen this man evolve.

"I have sparkling apple cider, if that's your fancy."

"Lame. I'll take it."

I return to the living room with two wineglasses full of cool, cold cider. This time, I take a seat right next to him on the couch. I can feel the warmth he radiates, and though it is the middle of summer, I get cozy in it. We both take small sips of our bubbling cider and gaze at the television. I occasionally steal glances at Robert, and when he looks back, my heart dances. I notice that he's slowly trying to inch towards me, covering it up by pretending to squirm whilst finding a comfortable sitting position. We continue this passive tension as the film goes on, until finally the end credits begin rolling. He sets his cider glass down on the coffee table with a loud clang, and upon returning to the couch he lays his head on my shoulder. All of a sudden, I'm uneasy. I get up with a start.

"Whoah, what happened?" he said with a hint of panic. "Something wrong?"

I gulped. "Uh, I just thought that we were—just friends?" Those words felt wrong coming out of my mouth.

He looked genuinely confused. "Yeah. And? What's wrong with getting comfortable?"

"Nothing, I guess," I realized how foolish I looked, romanticizing everything. "I'm sorry, dude." He just grunted, looking a little more closed off than he was before. I sat back down next to him on the couch, wrapping my arms around his wide body. "Really, Robert. I'm sorry." He lifts a hand to rest on top of one of my own.

"It's okay. If you have taught me anything at all, it's that anything can be worked through with patience." We stay seated for a while, frozen in our slightly awkward embrace. I get up and walk to the corner table, where my record player is placed. I flip through my collection of vinyl records and find a nice slow one to put on.

"I'm going to go get ready for bed," I inform him, expecting him to start setting up his sleeping area on the couch. Instead, he takes off his jacket and follows me to my bathroom, holding a smaller bag in his large hands. "What are you doing?"

"Do you think I don't brush my teeth or something? I hope you know that hygiene is of the most important factors of my daily regimen."

"Oh, no I do—sorry. Just tell me what you're doing and then I won't be confused, okay?"

"Okay. I'm going to unscrew the toothpaste cap now. And then squeeze some onto my toothbrush."

"You know what I meant." I roll my eyes. We both brush our teeth in silence in my dark and grey bathroom, not looking at each other. Or at anything in particular. After the cleaning ritual is over, he heads back to the living room as I change into my sleepwear. I grab a pillow and a blanket on my way out of my bedroom.

"Don't tell me you're sleeping in the same room as me," he sneered.

"What's a sleepover if we don't—"

"A joke, sir." He gestures to the couch, offering its space and comfort to me.

"But then where would you...?" He points to his sleeping bag, already laid out on the floor and ready to sleep in. "No. As the host of this event, I will not accept this. I must provide my guest with all of the comfort and cushions that I can offer. You, Robert, will take the couch tonight."

"No. I like how hard the floor is." I know that I can't beat him in this battle of will. We are both chained by our stubbornness.

"Fine," I scoff. I lay my blanket down on the floor next to his sleeping space. "If you won't take it, neither will I."

"Fine."

"Fine." I gently lay down and wrap my blanket around myself, turning to find the most optimal sleeping stance. "Hey Rob—" I turn around and my eyes widen at the sight of Robert wearing no pants, in the middle of getting changed. "Oh!"

"What?" he grunts. "Can't a man change into his PJs?"

"Sorry!" I quickly blurt out, shutting my eyes.

"You don't have to look away. What is it?"

"I just wanted to say goodnight." Silence in return. I hear him laying down, but I don't look in his direction. I can feel his heat again, and I get a whiff of his cologne. I find it funny how he put it on for a sleepover. About five minutes pass: five silent minutes. The summer wind blows through the cherry blossom in the backyard. I know that he is still awake.

"Goodnight," he mumbles so quietly that I almost mistake it for the rustling of leaves outside. That one phrase he says sets my heart ablaze, a feeling that I have not experienced in quite a while. The feeling of comfort knowing that somebody cares about you. The feeling of admiration of somebody's character. The feeling of—the L word. I suppress that feeling, casting it to a dark pit at the bottom of my heart. I turn around to face him, and I'm startled to see that he is already facing me. I look into his eyes, lit by the moon, and I begin to cry. Silently, as if he won't notice. He does, and is filled with concern in an instant.

"What's up?" he says as he yawns. I know that he is tired, so I won't push it with the emotional stuff tonight.

"Thank you, Robert. For coming to visit me today. I appreciate it. You know, with Manda gone, I just wanted someone to talk to, a human to see. You know? Yeah. I wanted to see you. I actually have for a while now. That's why I contacted you earlier. Just, thank you."

"Sure," he says softly. "Anything..." he drifts off into sleep.

1:09 a.m.

I wake up in the middle of the night, panicked. Who is this, with their arms wrapped around me? Am I being strangled to death by an attacker? When I realize that it is Robert, I relax. He and his sleeping bag somehow got moved right next to my blanket, close enough for him to wrap me in a death hug in his sleep. I'm comforted by this, and I allow myself to visit dreamland once again, this time knowing that I have a protector to defend me.

9:25 a.m.

The sunlight streams in through the blinds, and I rub my eyes as I slowly sit up. My back aches from being on the ground all night. Once I regain life I scan the room, trying to remember what happened last night. Robert! His stuff is gone, but I find a handwritten note on the kitchen counter.

Thanks for the hospitality. Have to leave early this morning—going to the library. I'll hit you up later. Robert

His handwriting is rough, but easy on the eyes. I pick up the note and place it on my office desk. "I'll hit you up later." I really hope he follows through with that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote this quite a while ago, I'm just migrating some of my work to this website, as I'm a new user. Please excuse the bad writing lol. I'm not sure how many chapters this will have, but expect a lot (I have 9 written so far).


	2. The Deli Date Disaster

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Robert sets up a date with Christopher.

6:20 p.m.

Today was an uneventful day. I spent most of my morning contemplating last night's event with Robert, and then I almost asked him out for lunch. But then chickened out. He probably doesn't even eat lunch at a normal time. Wait, what does he even do all day? Maybe I should ask him. Or would he rather keep that private? I so desperately want to see him again, but I just did last night. Would that be too much? Would he be creeped out and back off?

My panicked questions were answered with a loud ding!

It's Robert. "you doing anything? dinner?" I stare at the computer screen, my stomach in a knot. The fear from my social anxiety courses through my veins, filling me with awkward pain. About thirty seconds pass. "hello? don't tell me ur dead. i know u read this. it tells me when u have seen my message. ur not slick."

I shakily type back my reply. "I'm free. What's the plan?" It takes all of my willpower to press send.

"meet me at the deli in ten"

I shut my eyes and take a deep breath. You got this. It's not a date. Maybe he has something he wants to tell you. About how he's improving. Maybe you can ask him about it. Maybe he just wants a buddy to eat dinner with. It's not a date. I grab a nice jacket, put my least wrinkled pair of pants on, and get into my car.

6:59 p.m.

I have been sitting at a table for two at the deli for about twenty minutes now, and still no sign of Robert. I don't want to order yet, mostly because I'm waiting for him, but also because my stomach has been turned upside down with anxiety. And that doesn't bode well with mayo. I sent him a passive "u coming?" text a couple minutes ago, but it says that he has not read it yet.

7:23 p.m.

Almost an hour I have spent here now. People aren't giving me weird looks, but I feel judgement from every corner. I'm just sitting here without a meal, doing nothing but worrying about Robert. My thumbs have been twiddled. My hair has been twirled. The table has been tapped. I'm on the verge of tears, but only holding it in for the sake of the appearance of my mental state. I'm past anxiety now, I'm quickly being drained until I'm eventually emptied. Am I overreacting...?

No, I'm not! Where the hell is he? Did he forget that this was happening? Was this a twisted prank? Is he okay? What if he needs my help? I'm definitely losing my mind. I don't know what to do. I'm getting up, running out the doors, and jumping in my car. Everything is happening in a blur, and I can't hold in my tears anymore. This man has single-handedly wrecked my emotions, and I don't even know how he's done it. Or where he is. If he's even safe. Amanda is gone, and the one other person I have to keep me company is missing. I lay my head down on the wheel in exasperation, and I accidentally honk the horn, scaring a stray cat that was having a nap on the curb. My hot tears stream down my face, and the reason why I'm crying is still unclear. You need to pull it together. Stop depending so much on this man. You are your own person. My shaking hand brings the key to the ignition, and I'm off. Back into my hole of darkness, underneath my blanket, wondering about the future.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is probably the shortest chapter, I was feeling a bit uninspired while writing it. It does tie into the plot I planned quite nicely, however. Thanks for reading!


	3. The Storm

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chris (Dadsona) makes a new friend...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> p.s. this story takes place on a timeline in which dadsona never went on any dates with Joseph

7:50 a.m. the storm is brewing.

I am woken by the pattering of rain against my bedroom window. I rub my eyes, sore from last night's crying fit, and I roll out of my bed. I sleepily grab the green plastic spray bottle from the windowsill and spritz my plants a few times. I try my best to look out of the window through my heavy eyelids, and I am met with a dull grey sky. The wind is blowing hard, and a flurry of raindrops race across the street.

My heart is still sunken at the pit of my stomach, still recovering from the blow it took yesterday. I wonder if I'm overreacting. Perhaps I should just give Robert the benefit of the doubt and assume that he got caught up in an important intervention and didn't have the time to tell me about it.

The cold water of the shower makes me jump from shock. I just stand in the wet porcelain tub and let the water flow down my sorry self. I'm holding my emotions in because I have a business lecture to attend later today, and I want to focus only on that. I need to stop worrying about Robert.

1:30 p.m.

I am about to leave the house to attend the lecture, and I still can't take my mind off him. Maybe if I invite him over tonight, we can talk about what happened yesterday. Impulsively, I decide to call him. He usually never picks up and just texts me back later.

ringing, ringing, ringing, click. He picked up!

My tired eyes shoot open when I hear his low grumble. "Hello?"

I'm frozen by fear, and I instantly press the 'Hang Up' button, seemingly piercing through my phone with the force of my finger. I didn't expect to get through to him. I didn't want to talk to him. I just wanted to satisfy my sulking self. Did I just make a mistake? No time to think. I'm running late to the lecture.

5:08 p.m. after the long and draining lecture, i decided to have an outing at the park.

As soon as I set foot on the asphalt beside my car, I am greeted by a loud "Hello there!" I look up to see a light pink polo shirt and a beautifully sculpted head of blonde hair approaching me from the sidewalk.

"Hey, Joseph! How are you?" I shout back.

Christiansen shoots a blinding smile at me and winks. "Fantastic, sir! And what about you? What are you doing here on this fine Monday afternoon?"

"I'm pretty good. I just came here to unwind and relax, you know? Enjoy myself a little." I walk to the nearest park bench and plop myself down upon it. "You?"Joseph takes a seat right next to me, a little too right next to me, still smiling brighter than the sun.

"Ah, yes, I know exactly what you mean. I like to come here to watch the people, you see. I observe how wonderful they are, how each individual brings so much light and color to the world. It really is amazing, once you get into the habit of noticing it." Joseph places a hand on my opposite shoulder and leans in close to my face, close enough for me to smell his sweet cologne and margarita breath, "and it's even more amazing after visiting Margaritaville."

I am silent for a moment, giving him a nervous smile, until he lets out a hearty "Ha!" And I relax a little. He abruptly stands up and gestures for me to start walking with him.

"Say, my friend, I haven't seen you all week. Don't you ever leave the house?" He raises an eyebrow at me.

"I, uh..." I have never felt so offended and exposed in my life. "Well, I just like to read and work on... business. Mostly."

"Great! I like a quiet friend, too. So, what do you say we have a get-together soon? I have absolutely nothing fun to do these days!"

I think for a moment about my loneliness. Though this guy sure is intimidatingly kind, I wouldn't mind some time with him. "Sure! How soon are you talking?"

He takes a sharp right turn at a fork in the path, and I struggle to keep up with his pace. "Well, how about today-soon? Are you doing anything this evening?" He looks directly into my eyes with his. He has great blue ones.

"I guess not. Do you want to get dinner after this?"

"I would love to! And I know exactly the place!"

6:59 p.m. we arrive at the deli.

I follow Joseph through the same doors of the deli that I got stood up in last night. He picks a table and pulls my seat back for me.

"What a gentleman," I remark.

"Always," he snickers, flashing his dazzling smile once more. We place our orders, and once the server leaves, Joseph leans towards me across the table. "So what have you been up to lately?"

"Well... I mean, I went to a business lect—"

I am interrupted by the server who comes out of nowhere, asking, "Sorry, sir. Did you order a water or a lemonade?"

Joseph answers, "A water, please. Also, can I get a skinny margarita?" He looks at me. "You want anything else?"

"I'm fine. Thank you!" The server leaves the table. Joseph pulls out his phone and types out a few things, then puts it back in his khaki pocket. We end up sitting in silence for a while. Not a bad silence, though. It is broken by a text alert on my phone. I quickly whip it out, wondering who it could be.

Amanda: "hey daddy-o. just checking in and letting u kno that im not dead lol. talk to u later. love u lots"

The message warms my heart, and I guess it is apparent on my face, because Joseph blurts out, "A text from your daughter?"

I smile. "Yeah. I'm so proud of her. And excited for her. How are your kids doing?"

"Fantastic! Though they could use some discipline, they have... great futures ahead of them. Love them to death." He seems to wander in his thoughts, so I seize the time to send Amanda a text back.

"Glad to hear that. Stay safe and work hard. Love you lots 2." As I'm sliding my phone back into my pocket, another ding! stops me. Did she text back that quickly? I didn't think she would reply—

Robert: "u mind if i come over for a bit?"

The knot in my stomach reties itself, and I'm suddenly very angry.

"Sorry. busy. Another day."

I'm told that my message has been read, and he doesn't reply. My internal anger fit is interjected when our order arrives, and only now do I realize how hungry I am. After thanking the server, Joseph says his quiet thanks for this meal. And we begin chowing down.

I'm eating so fast that I can't even think. The entire world melts behind me as I take out my emotional rage on this sandwich, and nothing can stop me. I finish my entire meal, drink included, before Joseph gets even halfway through his.

"You must have been hungry," he says light-heartedly.

"I had a long day." I say half-jokingly. I sit patiently as Joseph neatly finishes the rest of his meal, and the server brings out the bill. Before I can even begin to reach for my wallet, Joseph is sliding his card into the pocket.

"Don't worry, and don't argue, my friend," he smiles at me again, making me swoon a little. "This was my treat. To our new friendship."

"I'll get the next one," I add. "Promise."

"Sure," he laughs. "So, what's the plan now?"

"Well, I was just going to head home and watch a movie, maybe. Or sleep my feelings away."

"Great! Can I come with?"

As much as I want alone time, this man's toxic friendliness gets to me. "I don't see why not."

We head out of the deli and hop in our cars. I follow him all the way back to our cul-de-sac, and he parks next to my driveway. He doesn't turn his car off, however, and when I look at my driveway, I see why. An old red truck is quietly sitting in the dark, and a shadowy figure leans against it. I park my car and storm over to it.

"Robert. I said I was busy."

Robert looks taken aback when I say this, but that quickly fades into a facade of grumpiness. "Well, I just wanted to chill here. Something wrong w—?" his eyes glance past me, and when he sees Joseph walking towards us, his eyes shift. "Hello, Joseph," he spat.

"Ah, Robert. How nice of you to keep my friend company. I'm sorry, dear, but I think I should go check on my kids now. Thank you for the nice day. Farewell!" Joseph grabs my shoulders from behind and kisses the top of my head. I turn to face him and he smiles at me, then coldly glares at Robert as he walks away. Robert and I stand in dark silence as Joseph's headlights swivel around and the sound of his engine fades away.

Robert has a hint of hurt in his tone when he tells me, "I, eh—I haven't seen Betsy all day. I have to go. Sorry. See you later." He hops in his truck and turns it on. I remain frozen on the driveway for a moment, but I eventually walk inside through the garage, trying to process the day. I turn around to wave goodbye to Robert, but he is already gone. I throw my bag on the armchair and let myself die for a second on the couch. What the hell does Robert think he's doing, showing up at my house out of nowhere even after I told him I couldn't see him, then leaving? Without a proper talk about what happened yesterday? My anger builds up again, and I begin to furiously type out a scolding text for him.

Before I can press send, the emotional buildup gets to me and I am knocked out.


	4. The Golden Boy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Christopher has an outing with some friends.

Almost a week has passed since I last had the incident with Robert and Joseph. I have spent most of my time reading, sleeping, eating, and not knowing where my life is going. Amanda hasn't texted me once, but that's okay. I know that she's busy. I just want my life to start heading somewhere. I'm trying to get into this whole business thing but it's so hard for me to focus when all that I want to do is lay around and mourn over how pathetic I am. Perhaps I need a friend. Someone who will listen. Just—anybody but Robert. My anger for him has already been internalized and I can't let go.

I whip out my phone and tap out a quick message to Joseph, remembering his friendly offer from last week.

"Hey, Joseph! You doing anything today? I'm down for lunch if you are."

About five minutes later, he texts back. "Hello! I would love to go out for lunch. May I do the honor of driving you there? ~Joseph"

"Great! Where are we going?"

"I guess you will find out if you get in my car! Five minutes?"

I would usually find this suspicious, but Joseph is a friendly man. "Sure," I reply. Wait, what if we're going somewhere fancy? He probably would take me somewhere nice. Just look at his polo! The man exudes class. I feel pressured to live up to his expectations, so I put on a polo as well.

I'm sitting on the lawn chair that I set up in the front of my house when I see Joseph's car approach me quickly, a happy blonde man inside. I walk over to the passenger door, and when I open it, I am greeted by an awkward hug from across the console. His car smells like brownies and strawberries.

"Hey, dear! You look great today. You ready?"

Why is he talking to me like I'm his wife? "Yeah, where are we goi—"

"Buckle up!" He floors the gas pedal, and we're off. He makes a lot of small talk while we're on the road, something I have become accustomed to despise after spending time with Robert.

"So how's Amanda?"

"Gone."

"Well, she'll come back. Right?"

"I hope. How are your kids?"

"They're alive. And quite crazy. Managing all four of them has really taken a toll on me. And with Mary gone now..."

I sense the conversation going dark. "Have you baked anything good recently?"

I see a smirk dance across his face. "Yes, actually. I've been saving the reveal for the next bake sale, but maybe I'll let you in on the secret. Maybe."

I sit back in my chair and grin. Something about the way this guy talks just gets to me. He's so dorky yet easy to converse with. We sit in silence for a while, and I look over at him. He's so concentrated on the road, his hands softly tapping a beat on the wheel that is most definitely part of a larger tune playing out in his head. He isn't wearing his blue sweater around his shoulders today, but rather a pastel purple one. It looks fantastic against his pink shirt. He is also wearing his usual khaki pants, and they fit him perfectly. The way they wrap around his smooth thighs and the curve on his butt suits his figure well.

"You look good," I blurt out. His eyes dart around, scanning the road while processing what I just said. "I mean, well, your outfit is good. Not that that's the only thing that looks good. Your whole look is good. Your outfit works well with the way you look. You look like a good man. A good-looking man." I should have just left it where I initially started it. I look away for a brief moment out the window, and when I look back, he is blushing.

Flustered, he chuckles, "Ha! Uh, thank you? I appreciate the positivity!" He also looks away. We sit in more silence until we arrive at the destination, which looks to be a seafood restaurant. Joseph holds open the door for me on the way in, smiling, and I nod back. Once I get inside, I can see that the entire place is decorated with 1960's-nautical knick-knacks, something that I can very clearly see Joseph being into. The hostess seats us at a table suited for 4, and after pulling out my chair for me, Joseph sits down right next to me.

I hate it when people do this. Especially couples. Not that we're a couple. "Uhhh..." I mumble.

He doesn't seem to hear me, as he intently scans the menu. "Hey Joseph, can't you sit on the other side of the table?"

He hears me this time, and looks up. "Huh? Oh! I was just making room for our guests!" Before I can even ask him what he means by that, two tall figures sweep across the restaurant to our table. Mary, Joseph's ex-wife, and Damien Bloodmarch, the spooky Victorian man I met at the barbecue, take the seats across from us.

"Hello, friends," Damien says softly. He acknowledges me and smiles at Joseph. He flourishes his cloak as he sits down.

"Hey," Mary announced. She sat down with grace and elegance, and a little bit of cockiness. I didn't know that Joseph was inviting these two as well, but I'm not opposed to it. Just taken aback. I examine Damien and Mary in their neutral state, wondering what they're all about.

"So, where did you guys just come from?" I ask.

"We were at the pet shelter just now," Damien replies. "Gathering the loose dogs."

"And I supervised this 'gathering' of dogs," Mary added.

"Cool!" So that's the end of that conversation. Joseph interrupts the silence with a loud clearing of his throat, which prompts Damien to fumble for something from his pocket. He pulls out a neatly folded sheet of paper, and he unrolls it onto the table. It looks like a sequential list of sorts.

"So, this is the plan," Joseph says to me directly, leading me to assume that the others are in on this already. "We want to have a fun neighborhood party and movie night. And to get everybody to come, we need to provide an incentive. So first... " Joseph goes on explaining his grand scheme, but I get lost looking at him. His eyes are so expressive and reflect what he is thinking, his brows jumping up and down with the flow of each sentence. He gestures his hands when he talks, and I can't help but notice how large they are. Not excessively large, just large enough to be able to get a good grip on things. Things that aren't me. Or anything of that nature. "Are you following?"

"What? Yeah, of course!"

"Okay, good. So Damien is going to..." he goes off again, getting more and more excited as he continues to explain this great plan. I drown out his words and stare off behind him at the restaurant decorations, and I start daydreaming about being on a cruise. Just out in the middle of the ocean, a coffee in hand, Joseph by my side... What? Stop! Why are you thinking these things! He just cut off a long term and committed relationship; he probably needs time and space to heal. A lot of time and space.

Mary suddenly interrupts, "this is great and all, but what will we serve to our guests? What drinks? Speaking of drinks, can a girl get some wine around here? Excuse me!" She waves at a server and orders wines for all of us.

"I mix a mean margarita, guys. You all know this," Joseph insists, with a hint of annoyance. "How about Christopher is in charge of the snacks? Can you handle that, dear? I can make a grocery list for you, if that's what you'd need."

I blink at him with confusion, until fully realizing what he said. "Oh, sure! I got it, you don't have to worry. Not one bit." We continue discussing our plans as the day goes on and we continually down wine. Our planning committee meeting turns into a casual conversation about the necessity of dogs when Damien's phone suddenly goes off. He picks it up and brings it up to his face.

"Hello?" He waits for a moment, then holds up one finger at us, asking us to excuse him for a moment. When he walks out of the building to take the call, Mary also abruptly gets up.

"I'm feeling gross and bored. I'm going to go home and freshen up. See you nerds later." She doesn't even acknowledge Joseph as she walks away, but throws a semi-cold smile at me. Joseph and I are left at this shiny nautical table alone, and we look into each other's drunk eyes. He just starts grinning for no reason, and it's contagious. My lips twitch until I'm also smiling, giggling, then straight up laughing. We both laugh at each other, not at anything in particular. Once we settle down, he puts both of his hands around my arms. His lips are about to form a sentence, but he stops himself. He then just pulls me in and gives me a tight and warm hug, embracing me like his life depends on it. I smell his sweet cologne again, and I instantly melt into his arms. We stay in this awkward hugging position for a while, both incapable of further advancing this moment due to our inebriated state. It's a beautiful moment, though. The late afternoon sun is beaming through the porthole windows, casting a golden light on Joseph's bright face and hair. I stare at him as he stares back, both of us just admiring the other. His face looks like it could have been sculpted by God himself. How I just want to take it in my hands and—

"I'm back!" Damien sings. Joseph and I hurriedly pull away from each other, but not in time for Damien to not suspect anything. He glances at both of us individually, then continues his sentence. "Just a call about an IT thing. I can handle it later..." his sentence is lost with the rest of his thoughts, wandering nowhere. We all seem to be in a separate dimension right now. Damien is the first to snap back into reality. "Well, this was a pleasant afternoon. Nice seeing you again, Christopher. I will contact you later about the party information. Good day, Joseph." And with a swing of his cloak, he is scurrying to his car outside.

Unsure of what to do next, I get up, leaning one way too much, then I sit back down. This time, I support my weight on Joseph's shoulders, and I am able to hoist myself into a strong planted position on the ground. Joseph gets up too, but then immediately slouches into my body before I can even try to grab him. We both almost fall, but I muster all of my strength up to catch this tall man. He looks up at me from his silly fallen pose and grins wider than I have ever seen him grin. His smile twinkles in the golden bask of the sun, and I'm beaming back at him, wondering how this man ever came to be in my life.

"Are you guys ready for the bill?" the server asks. Joseph grumbles and then composes himself, turning to the server.

"Yes, sir." He starts grabbing for his wallet in his back pocket when I stop him.

"No, I said I was paying for the next date... remember? That's today." He stares back at me blankly. Did I not say that last time? Am I remembering things wrong? Or... shit. Did I just call this a date? He doesn't think I mean ... date date, right? Do friends go on dates?

"Well... this isn't a date, dear." My heart sinks. "There will be dates in the future, though." My heart is soaring again. "Which means, I get this one." He slips his card into the pocket and hands it to the server with one swift movement. We stumble back out to his car, when he suddenly jumps up. "I forgot my card! Stay here, I'll be right back." He runs back into the restaurant, and I drunkenly reach for the door handle. I climb in and take a seat, but something feels off. I'm in the back. Silly me, I didn't even look to see which door I was opening. I feel so lightheaded, yet heavy at the same time. Joseph comes running back out to the car, and he throws his wallet through the window onto the driver's seat. He takes notice of my location.

"Whatcha doin' back there?" he giggles.

"Chilling." I say. The sunlight is very golden now, setting everything it beams upon ablaze. He hops into the back with me, taking up the rest of the space.

"Let's both be chilling. I shouldn't drive right now anyways," he yawns. He turns to face me and slings an arm around my shoulder, bringing his face close to mine.

"So... how are you?" I ask. I'm starting to feel tired too, when suddenly his lips are tightly pressed upon mine. It all happens in an instant. First we're just holding each other, tasting and embracing, and then he lays down across the row of seats, and I am on top of him. We keep sharing small kisses, interrupted by longer, more passionate ones.

"I'm good," he breathes, in between a kiss and the next. We continue locking lips until we are both exhausted, and I sit up. My head now aches, and I look down at Joseph. His hair is all ruffled and ruined, which I find extremely cute. Because I did that. His eyes are closed, and I'm unsure if he is asleep or not, until he murmurs my name.

"Yeah?" I croak.

"You're amazing." His eyes are still closed gently, but the corners of his lips lift up in that heart-melting smile of his.

"And so are you," I reply. I lay back down on top of him, using his bulky shoulder as a headrest. I look up at his gorgeous light-bathed face once more before drifting off into an intoxicated and dreamless sleep.


	5. Candlelight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Christopher confronts Robert: will things work out?

11:10 a.m., the morning after my outing with Joseph and friends

I feel like a mess when I wake up. I roll out of bed right onto the floor of my room, and I stay there for a while. I can barely remember what happened yesterday, other than Joseph driving me home and kissing me on the forehead before I got out of the car. I grab my phone to see if there are any texts that I missed; there are none. I wish Robert texted me. No matter how much I want to distance myself from him, I really do want to see him still.

I crawl from my floor to my shower, and once the water hits me I'm feeling energized again. After my shower I light my favorite candle and put on my comfiest pajamas. I grab the nearest word jumble and get to work.

2:13 p.m. i feel a quick rap on my window

I get up to go investigate the source of it, and I see a shadow quickly dance from the window to the front door. Through the smokey glass I can see a large, dark figure standing outside. I slowly open the door and peek my head around the corner, only to see Robert standing with his arms crossed. He looks annoyed, tired, and shifty all at once. I stare at him, dumbfounded.

"Can I help you?" That came out harsher than I had intended.

"I don't even get a 'Hello'? A proper greeting?" he barks.

"No, sorry! It's just— what are you doing here? ...At this time?" I open the door a little wider.

He looks around, then stammers, "I... my, uh, therapist told me that I should go talk to people. At 'normal' times of day." He throws his hands up at the word "normal", mocking it. "So... I'm here now. To see you." He makes his way into my home, and I close the door behind him.

"Sorry it's not clean, you didn't really give me a warning that you would be here."

"Do you think I care?" He plops down on the couch.

"Well— I don't know. Do you want anything to drink or snack on?" He considers the offer, then shakes his head and pulls out a cigarette from one pocket and a lighter from the other. His lighter has a cartoon drawing of a boston terrier on it. I sit down on the couch across from him, unsure of what to make of this odd situation. He probably doesn't feel awkward about this, but I definitely do. Should I bring up the deli date disaster from a week ago? Probably shouldn't. What the hell else are we supposed to talk about? I can feel him staring at me, his dark eyes examining every part of my body and soul. He takes a long draw from his cigarette, and then pats the cushion right next to him.

"I got a question." he simply states.

I take the seat next to him, feeling his presence overpowering mine. He brushes the hair away from his face, then turns to me, leaning in. I look into his smokey eyes, dull and sad, and I lean in towards him too. Behind the smell of his smoke, I catch a strong whiff of whiskey. He's been drinking. I put all of my frustration towards him aside, knowing that he is fragile right now.

"What is it?" I ask, pulling away from him a bit to ease the odd tension that I felt building. I just want a normal conversation.

"Do you ever think... that we're not... real?" He shuts his eyes, either lost in thought or just from exhaustion.

"Well, I did once. Everybody goes through that existential phase." A long pause. "Do you?"

He lets out a small chuckle, but not in humor. It sounded dark. "Occasionally. I don't really know. I just want an answer... you know? I want..." he trails off.

I decide to get straight to it. "Robert, you've been drinking. I can smell it—"

"Well sorry that it's a habit!" he suddenly turns on me, the aggression in his voice apparent.

"No, I wasn't... I was just observing it! Connecting the dots... I just really want to help you."

"Why? Why do you care about an old wreck like me? What are you in this for?" He's shouting now, his cool completely lost.

"Robert? I've always cared about you. I only wanted the best for you, and I know that even though you have been struggling, and it's hard to get over—"

"What do you know about struggle? You and your perfect pretty little life, dozing off at home until you get bored and you call up your friends to have a good time." He stands up forcefully, and I retreat. "That's right, Chris. I know that you have been hanging out without me. I saw you get into Christiansen's car yesterday. I don't know what you two are up to, but if you really do care about me, you wouldn't be around that scum all the time."

I'm angry now. I stand up as well. What does he have against Joseph? He's a nice guy. A really, really nice guy. Why is he suddenly so upset? Joseph has clearly shown himself to be a great man. Better than...

"You left me." I shout, remembering the incident two weeks ago.

"What?"

"You left me! You agreed to get dinner with me at the deli, and you straight up left me there! I waited for you, Robert. For hours. I texted you over and over, and I had thought there was something wrong. I thought you died! You can't just cut off all communication with me and expect me to be okay with that! I really do care about you Rob, and when I don't know what you're up to, I get worried! And, and... I just wanted a nice night. With you." My voice cracks at the last word, and I feel a tear beginning to creep down my face. I wipe it away quickly, because I want to be the emotionally stable one in a conversation for once.

Robert's angry posture completely shifts as he draws back, sitting back down on the couch. He tries to say something, but he can't. He lays his head in his palms as he lets out a big sigh. I pull back as well, sitting down again on the couch across from him. I lean my head back and close my eyes, still trying to keep the tears contained. When I open them back up and I look at Robert, he's trembling. He still has his face covered, and I can hear a low whimper as he cries. I don't know how to feel anymore. I'm upset, frustrated, and sorry. Not everything can go your way. I slowly walk over to Robert, afraid that he might jump at me, but he's too vulnerable for that. I sit down next to him again, throwing my arms around him. I lay the side of my head against his shoulder, and I let the tears flow freely down my face. Something about the sight of this man crying combined with all of the angst that I have been building up for weeks makes me completely break.

"Robert, I'm sorry. I just wanted to know that you were okay. I have been stood up before, it's fine. But I was just really, really worried. I'm sorr—"

"No." He lifts his face, which is red, blotchy, and stained with dry tears. Fresh wet tears are also streaming. He sniffles, then continues. "Don't be sorry. I—I feel like such an asshole. I am an asshole. I completely... I got caught up that day. I had an emergency trip to the therapist. I... I just really wanted to stop being so lost. I was...scared to see you. I didn't want you to see how much of a bum I was. And eventually, I just forgot about it." A long silence, and an even longer draw from his cigarette. "I feel so shitty. I had no idea. How do I make this up to you?" He starts crying again, unable to get out another word.

"Rob, it's okay. I suspected that you were going through something, just—please. Tell me when you're hurting. Talk to me. Don't be afraid to let it out. I care about you. For real. And I'll do whatever it takes to let you know that. I have tried so hard to get closer to you and have you let me in your circle, which I know you're not comfortable with, but I like you a lot and it frustrates me so much when you're in pain. I don't know why you won't let me—" I am stopped mid-sentence by a hard kiss from Robert. He puts one arm behind my back to pull me in closer, and with his other hand he wipes away the hot tears from my face. He keeps kissing me as I stand up, but I nudge him to make him stop. At this point, I've forgotten where I was going with that last sentence. I just want to love him.

I grab his hand and lead him into my room, and I close the door as he excitedly stumbles through it. He grabs me and kisses me again, his warm whiskey lips locking with mine very comfortably. As we make our way towards my bed, he puts out his cigarette and tosses it aside. Is that safe? I don't care right now. He hoists me up by my thighs and lightly tosses me onto the bed, following shortly after. His jacket is off and on the floor now. We share a few more long, passionate kisses as my hands creep under his shirt and grab his sides. I can tell that he's ticklish here, he slightly squirms as I run my fingers along his body. I am about to keep going when he pulls back.

"Wait," he stops. He looks away and out the window for a second. He gets off of me and sits back down, and I prop myself up against my headboard.

"Everything okay?" I'm a little disappointed, but mostly concerned.

"Yeah, it's great. It's just... I don't want to do this. When I'm drunk. I can't. This kind of thing has never ended well for me, you know?"

I look at him with the most understanding look I can manage. "Yeah, I totally get that. It's okay, Robert. We don't have to." I lean in for a hug, but he pushes me back. Fine. I fall onto my back and he lays down next to me. He's facing away from me, so I tap him on the shoulder. "Hey, Rob?"

"Don't call me that."

"Can I tell you something?"

Silence.

"I usually think that nothing is real. I usually feel like I have no purpose or reason. But just now, with you... I felt real. And you were real too. We were both very real people with a real connection. I don't want to lose that feeling."

He rolls around to face me on his side, and I notice that his eyes are brighter than they were just minutes ago. We stare at each other for a long silent moment, and then all of a sudden we're kissing again. Not a hot and steamy kiss, but a wholesome one. A kiss shared between two genuine people who genuinely want to kiss each other. It's a little awkward because of a gap between our bodies, so I have to strain my neck to reach him. His warmth radiates and engulfs me completely, making my spine tingle. After a very long time, I pull away from the kiss. His face slightly trails along with mine, asking for more. Sorry, Robert's face. I'm tired.

I look at him and I can't suppress my smile. This man and I have already been through so much. I think we deserve to enjoy this moment together. He doesn't smile back, but looks intently into my eyes. I know he's thinking hard about something. The sun is shining brightly outside, but all I can think about is nodding off. I raise one of my legs and put it atop his, interlocking us in a very comfortable sleeping position. For me, at least. His hand comes to a rest on my waist, and all of my worries drain away. My eyelids are rather heavy. Robert's eyes are now closed, so I conclude that it's okay to close mine too. Just for a minute.

8:56 p.m.

I'm extremely warm. Too warm, especially for the summer. My heart tingles as I open my eyes, just peeking through my lids. The last of the sun is making its way below the horizon, painting the sky with a palette of light pinks and purples, contrasted with a deep, dark blue. My eyes are fully open now, because I hear something strange. A rhythm drums through my house, hypnotizing me and calling me out of bed. Wait, where's Robert? Did he leave already? Damn, not even a goodbye. To be fair, he probably wanted to go to sleep in his own home.

I am still in my pajamas from this morning. Not that it matters. I decide to investigate this alluring rhythm before anything else, so I sleepily plant my feet on the carpet. I rub my eyes and use all of my strength to get up off the bed. When I open the bedroom door, the noise becomes more prominent and readable. It's the strum of a guitar. Though quiet, it resonates throughout the whole house, bouncing around and congregating beautifully. Spots of light, warm and glowing, dance and flicker across the walls. In a trance, I make my way around the house towards the source of the enticing melody. I turn the corner into the living room and—holy shit.

Robert cleared the room and moved the small table and two stools to the middle. He delicately placed candles all around the entire scene, each one lit and blazing with a warm shimmer. He's sitting atop one of the stools with his classical guitar, playing out a beautiful melody that makes my heart melt. His back is turned to me, so he doesn't notice that I'm here. At first it looks like he's wearing his normal outfit, but upon further inspection I see that he is wearing a suit. A fancy and fitted suit. Damn. He looks so amazing and... clean. Just from the back I can tell that his hair is combed and intentionally styled. I tiptoe along the side walls of the room, careful not to let him see me. His facial hair is groomed; still scruffy and rugged, but shaped and presented nicely, like he actually cares about how he looks. He gets away with not cleaning up at all because of his already dreamy facial features and overall aesthetic, but seeing him all prettied up like this has me absolutely head over heels. I am still enchanted by this sad yet hopeful tune he is plucking, and it calls to me. I feel like I'm floating towards him, when—

"I know you're there" he calls. The tune stops.

I almost trip from the fright and surprise. "Uh, I—Uh... What?"

He spins around on the stool, and now that I can see him front on, my heart flutters. Yep. He looks good. "I said, I know you're there," he smirks.

"How did you know?" I stutter.

"I know everything." He's smiling now, making me dissolve.

"Do you know how absolutely fine you look?"

That did the trick. He nervously chuckles and looks away, flustered. "Uhh, I guess?"

Gottem. "So uh... what is all this? I feel like I'm in a magical fairytale and you're the fruit at the end of the rainbow." What?

"What?"

"What?"

"I, uh... care to join me?" he gestures to the stool on the other side of the table. I'm still in my fucking pajamas, but I make my way over anyways. As I'm sitting down, he cries, "Wait!" He quickly jumps up from his seat and runs around to my side. He pulls out the stool and bows to me, but he goes too far and bangs his head on the seat. I fail at holding in a fit of laughter. He joins in, but he looks embarrassed.

"What a gentleman!" I snicker. I sit down, and he stands beside the table in an upright stance.

"What would you like to dine on this fine evening? But actually don't tell me, because I already made food. Be right back." He disappears into the kitchen. I use this time to take in the situation. Why is he doing all of this? I didn't know he was even capable of cooking a meal. He appears in the doorway, holding a plate of food in each hand, along with two rolled up napkins. He sets them down on each side of the table, and I drink in the sight of the meal. A cooked and seasoned fish sits in a pool of butter and oil, accompanied by a scoop of rice, green beans, and a slice of garlic bread. My mouth waters from the sight of this home-cooked dish, and I look back up at Robert, smiling.

"Robert, this looks amazing! Where did you get the ingredients for this? I didn't even know I had the proper cooking supplies!"

"Anything for you, babe. I went to the fish market while you were knocked out." He sits down in his seat, unsure of what to do next. "Do you, uh, say prayers before eating?"

"I don't, but if you do, I'll join you."

"I mean, no. But... we can. If you want to."

"Okay," I reach across the table and grab Robert's hands. I close my eyes, assuming he does the same. "Dear Lord, thank you for blessing me with this meal, along with this stunningly gorgeous and handsome man who has brought so much light to my life. Amen." I open my eyes, and find that his are wide open. His mouth is agape with surprise. I stare him down until he starts blinking.

"Oh, uh. Amen." He seems to be in shock still from what I just said about him. I contain my smirk while I unwrap my napkin to get a fork. I slice into the fish and take a bite. Not as warm as I'd hoped, but the seasoning is just perfect. I don't know where he found these spices in my house, but I'm so glad he did. I start digging in, and he does too. I let out an "mmm" to let him know that I'm enjoying this immensely. We both finish our meals without saying a word, just enjoying the company of the other.

"That was phenomenal. And I'm bloated." I state. Robert nods and gets up, walking to the kitchen again. He returns with two glasses of wine. I take one from his hand, and he takes a sip from his as he sits back down. It tastes great, but then again, I have no taste in wine at all.

"Don't think this is the end of it, Chris. Follow me." He gets up and pushes his way through the clutter until gets to the front door. I follow him all the way outside to his truck, and he hops in.

"Wait, where are we going?"

"Just let it happen, man. Get in already."

"No, I'm still in my pajamas! I'll be right back!" He rolls his eyes as I sprint back to my room. I'm throwing all of my regular clothes out of the way to get to my nicest blazer and slacks. I put them on as fast as I can, not wanting to miss out on any more time with Robert. I run back outside, grabbing our wineglasses on the way, and throw myself into the passenger seat of his truck. "Floor it!" I shout.

"Woah, chill. Not everything has to be rushed. Just enjoy the moment." He drives us down the street at an incredibly slow pace, and my excitement dies off as we seem to be going nowhere.

After too long of a drive, we end up in his driveway. He gets out and starts walking towards the side gate. I stare at him as he walks, admiring his confident gait.

"Are you coming?" he beckons. I pick up the wineglasses and dance over behind him as he unlocks the gate. We're walking in his backyard, which from here looks never-ending. From around the corner I see his patio, which is decorated with glowing fairy lights. Vines are crawling all around the metal bars that encase the space, making it look as dreamy as ever. We both sit on his patio chairs.

"Damn, Rob. This is so beautiful. You do this yourself?"

"Damien helped me decorate. It was actually his idea. ...This whole night was his idea. He said that excessively romancing you was the only way to win your forgiveness."

I feel myself starting to blush, my face heating up. This was all just to get me to forgive him?

"Oh my god, what? I forgave you already! Robert! You didn't have to do all this!" I say this, though I am very pleased with him doing all this.

He seems relieved, but masks it with his cool attitude. "Well, consider this a treat from me, then." He seems so real right now. As I look into his eyes, glowing with the reflection of the fairy lights, I see real happiness. And that in itself makes me burst with joy. Have we finally made it?

We spend the rest of the night finishing off our wine slowly, telling stories from our hazy past. All of our worries are set aside for the time being. We set our wineglasses on the coffee table, and suddenly he's grabbing me. He lifts me up with a swooping motion and carries me all the way up to his room. Things are scattered everywhere, but I don't mind. His bed smells like smoke and whiskey. We kiss the night away, and I get lost in the enigma that is Robert.


	6. Downpour

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things get complicated with Christopher's neighbors.

The autumn leaves crunch under my boots as I walk to The Coffee Spoon. It's been a few weeks since the day Robert and I made up, and nothing has happened ever since. I met him at the deli a few times, but we just ate and left. Nothing exciting. The day of the neighborhood party is nearing, so Damien texted me and asked me to meet up with him to discuss and finalize the plans.

I walk in through the glass door, setting off the shopkeeper's bell. I spot Damien already sitting down at a table for two, sipping on a cup of tea and reading a book that looks to be ancient. A handwritten list sits on the table in front of him. He acknowledges me as I sit down across from him. As I'm taking my coat off, Mat Sella approaches me.

"Hey guys! Anything I can get for you today?"

I glance at the mini menu on the table. "I'll get a... uh—large Pumpkin Spice Latte?"

"Sure! Coming right up!" He scurries back behind the counter.

"Mat makes a killer latte, Christopher. Good choice," Damien says so quietly, it's almost a whisper. His voice is strong yet gentle, booming with intelligence and grace. I chuckle, unknowing of what to say next.

"So... what's the plan?" I ask.

"For what?"

"The neighborhood party?"

"Oh, yes! The plan. We have decided that you and Joseph are going to be in charge of advertising the party. We want to have as many guests as possible, which means, essentially, all of Maple Bay. Does that work with you?" He looks down at his list. "Oh, and did you purchase the supplies yet? Did Joseph ever make you the shopping list?" I nod. "Fantastic. Looks like things are headed in the right direction. Will you also make sure that Mary can actually handle all of the decorations? We may have put a large load on her shoulders, and she might need a helping hand." He scans the list one more time. "That should be all for now. Great!" He smiles and claps cheerfully. "Joseph does love to throw parties for every season. It's a lot of work, but definitely is rewarding!"

I take a moment to process all of this, making a mental checklist. "Alright, then. Sounds good! I'm pretty excited." I smile back.

Damien takes a long sip from his tea, then sets it down. He raises his hand and waves at Mat, who is already approaching us with a steaming hot cup of PSL. "Can I get more of this, friend?"

"Sure thing, bud. One second please!"

Buzz. I fumble for my phone. It's a text from Amanda.

"hiiii how r u? sorry 4 not texting u for like a month. there is just soo much to do here!!! i hope ur doing well. made new friends? gone to parties? how is robert? ;)))))"

I type back, "Hey Manda. It's okay, as long as I know that ur still alive. I hope you're having a lot of fun! Haven't broken too much yet, have you? I'm doing okay. Actually planning a neighborhood party right now! Do not tease me with those winky faces amanda. I know what that means. Love u <3"

"hmmm, sounds lame. wish i were there. have fun with your friends! love ya too"

"You too!" She didn't answer my question about broken things.

Damien calls my name to get my attention. "I just sent a message to Joseph. He is on his way here."

"Cool," I reply nonchalantly. But on the inside, a fire starts burning. I haven't seen Joseph in a while, and the last time I did, we had a messy makeout session. I have very strong feelings about this man, but something seems wrong. Do I like him? Or do I just like how nice he is? How blonde and beautiful he is? And can I continue feeling this way about him while also dealing with Robert? And why does Robert get so iffy when we talk about Joseph?

"How is Joseph?" I ask Damien.

"What? Well, he's doing fine. If that's what you meant to ask."

"No, I meant like—what do you think of him?"

Damien takes a moment to collect his thoughts. I don't sense a trace of any negativity in his tone. "He's a nice man, that Joseph. Likes to be happy a lot. And he loves to talk. He's tired a lot, though. He cares a lot about his kids and the church. The man needs a break."

See! He seems to be a perfectly fine person. Maybe Robert just had a bad experience with him once.

Mat returns to our table, holding a large cup of tea. "There you go, sir!" He winks at the both of us and scrambles off to the next customer. I hear the shopkeeper's bell go off, and I turn around to see Joseph in the doorway. He has a tweed coat on over his polo shirt, and man does he look classically handsome. He scans the shop until he sees us, goes, "ah!", and starts bouncing towards us. He pulls up a chair from an adjacent table and takes a seat. He beams at the both of us while taking his coat off, wrapping it around the back of his chair.

"So!" he booms. "Did you two go over the plans?"

"We did indeed. He seems to follow," Damien replies, gesturing in my direction with a thumbs-up finger pose.

"Fantastic! So, you ready to get to work?" Joseph asks me.

"Oh, right now? Uh, sure! If you are!"

"Perfect. I need a snack, first." He waves Mat over. "Hey there! Can I get a blueberry muffin? With extra blueberries?"

"On it," Mat calls, already walking back to the counter. Once he comes back with the muffin, Joseph and I stand up. We both leave cash on the table as a payment for our orders, and give Mat a high five on the way out. Joseph waves at Damien before exiting the shop, and I do the same. Damien glances back and nods his head politely.

"Oh, uh... I walked here. Mind if I ride with you?"

Joseph smiles and winks. "Of course I don't. Hop in."

He starts taking us in the direction of our cul-de-sac, but takes a turn at the neighborhood entrance. We park at the opening of a different cul-de-sac, and Josephs waves at me to get out of the car. He quickly crawls into the back to get something, and gets back out with a stack of small cards in hand. We make our way over to the first house in the line, and Joseph rings the doorbell. A dog starts barking wildly from inside, and a woman's voice coaxes it to calm down. The door swings open, and a friendly-looking lady with very messy hair greets us.

Joseph starts with, "Hi, Linda! I don't know if you have heard, but my annual autumn backyard party is coming up in a week, and we would love for you to—"

Linda slams the door shut, making her dog bark even louder. Joseph just stands there for a moment, then turns around and starts walking away. "She never comes," he mumbles defeatedly. I follow him to the next house, which is completely painted blue. The doorbell is rung, and once the door opens, Joseph goes through his little invitation speech again. This time, he is allowed to go through the entire thing. Still, he is rejected.

"Well, just in case, do you want to keep this info card? Just in case?" The door closes. Joseph frowns.

The next house. A polite rejection.

Next. Sorry, can't come, busy that day.

The final house in the row. Nobody answers the door, but we hear a lot of shushes and hushes coming from inside, like they're hiding from us.

"Whoah, why is everybody so cold around here?" A nasty thought pops up in my twisted brain.

"I don't really know, but it's nothing new." I try to suppress it, but it's a strong fighter. I can't hold it back for long. Oh no, here it comes.

"I guess you could call it a ... cold-de-sac!" I regret this.

Joseph musters a light giggle, but he is still very defeated.

"Hey, Joseph, it's okay! All of our close friends will be there! That's what's more important, right? The people you care about?"

"Yeah, I guess you're right. I just really wanted to have a huge friendly gathering for once. Sometimes our community seems so disconnected."

"Hmmm, maybe it's just that—"

Crack! Boom! Lightning races through the clouds above, and the following thunder echoes throughout the bay. I didn't even notice how dark it was until now. Rain starts pouring down from the heavens, and Joseph grabs my hand instinctively.

"Good lord!" he shouts as we start running for his car. It's raining so hard that the droplets actually kinda hurt when they land on my skin. Ow.

We launch ourselves into his car and shut the doors quickly. We are both out of breath, gasping for our lives. After we calm down from that intense physical activity, Joseph leans on his wheel. I can tell that something is up.

"Hey... what's up?" I ask tentatively.

He lets out a long sigh as the rain patters on the windows of his car. pat pat pat. "Nothing too much. It's just... do you ever feel..." he searches for the right word, "drained?" pat pat pat.

"Can you elaborate on that?" pat pat pat. Crack! Boom!

"I don't really know. I just haven't felt like myself lately. I haven't had any time at all to sit down and think about myself. It's always a problem with the kids, followed by a call from the church, and then the next thing I know I'm tumbling through all of these responsibilities, and for what? What am I draining myself for? It's all in good meaning, but I truly just want a small break!" There is so much frustration in his voice that I almost truly feel how exhausted he must be. He whimpers a bit more, not crying, but getting misty-eyed from the overwhelmingness. pat pat pat. I take his hands in mine, and look deeply into his eyes.

"Hey, it's all going to be worth it. Things will turn out okay. Trust me, Joseph. I felt this way at one point in my life too."

"I do trust you." He lifts one of my hands up to his face and gives my knuckles a small peck. I guess all my nerve endings are suddenly in my knuckles only because I feel super tingly. pat pat pat. He then grabs my other hand and gives that one a little kiss too. This time, he lingers, and gives my pinky finger a small nibble. His puppy eyes beg me, not for anything in particular, just for me. I roll my body over the console and right into his lap, and I hover there for a moment, my hand still tightly grasped by his, and then he pulls me in. We are kissing, not thinking about anything else but each other. His lips taste like peppermint and blueberry muffin today. I grab his smooth face and force it into mine, and he seems to like that. I then run my fingers through his hair, deliberately ruining its perfectly coiffed shape.

He giggles. "Hey!" and pulls back. He then decides that his hair is the least of his priorities right now, and goes back to kissing me passionately. pat pat pat. As we are kissing I look at the backseat of his car. A little ukulele is sat upon stacks of other things, and a little tune begins strumming in my mind. Wait... what is this melody? I've heard it before... recently... pat pat pat... Robert! I immediately pull away from Joseph. He frowns. "Huh?"

A chill goes down my spine as I remember how freakishly amazing Robert was to me on that night. "Joseph, I am so sorry. I just, had to stop. It's got nothing to do with you. I just...remembered something."

"Oh... ah, it's okay. I haven't done anything wrong, have I?" He wipes off some saliva from his chin.

"No, no, not at all! You're a great guy. I just need to sort things out, okay?" pat pat pat. I'm still straddled on top of Joseph, so I climb back over to the passenger seat. I lean over and run my fingers through his golden locks again, this time attempting to reshape them to their original style. He assists me with his own fingers. pat pat pat pat pat.

"Okay, Christopher. I trust you." He puts his key in the ignition and starts the engine. He looks disappointed, but understanding. His lips are red and raw from my biting. He puts the gear in drive. We go home. The rain still beats down on me as I exit his car, giving him one last smile.


	7. Love Bunnies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Robert surprises Christopher with a present.

7:40 p.m. it's the night before the neighborhood party. joseph and i spent our free time during the past week spreading word of the event and advertising it in the local shops. yesterday i stopped by mary's new apartment to check it out and help her with the decorations. she seemed to be doing just fine—spectacular, in fact. she made an extra amount just in case! i guess she really can be trusted to handle a large task.

I decide to spend time outside for once, since the weather is so suitable for such an endeavor. I bring a cup of hot tea and a word jumble packet out onto my front porch and sit down. The cool autumn air chills my skin, yet comforts me at the same time. I set my things down and run back inside to quickly grab a light sweater. I start unscrambling.

As I get caught on this one particularly difficult jumble, "randeetmne", I hear my phone wildly buzzing from inside. I feel stumped, so I decide to give it a break and investigate the ruckus. Text messages jump onto my phone screen with rapid succession.

"hey"

"hey"

"hey"

"can you hear me"

"do you want to have fun tonight"

"like normal fun i didnt mean for that to sound like it did"

"not that im like opposed to that kind of fun"

"i dont want to get too deep right now"

"i can get real deep tho"

"wait not sexually"

"well yes sexually?"

"no no"

"okay anyways"

"come over?"

"i have a surprise for you"

"you better be getting these messages"

"hello?"

"..."

Typical Robert. I'm glad that he can't see me grinning at these foolishly silly texts. I wouldn't want him to believe that he's actually funny. Should I even bother to text him back? I don't want to give him the satisfaction of it. I put my mug and word jumbles back inside, get my rain boots on, and make my way over to his house. The walk is nice; something about the crunch of the leaves and the bone-tingling wind makes me happy inside.

When I get to his driveway, I see that I won't have to ring the doorbell. His door is already open, and he is stood right there in the doorway. He is leaning against the frame, wearing a deep maroon sweater and sweatpants, and damn does he look charming. I don't even hesitate to start running, my wet boots almost failing to maintain a steady hold on the slippery grass. I run right into his arms, and he swings me around once before setting me down.

"Hey," I beam.

"Sup," he responds coolly. I see excitement behind his eyes, and I'm very curious to know what's going on. "Really, what's up?" He asks genuinely.

"Oh... well, nothing much. You know that you're always the highlight of my day, right?"

His eyes dart nervously in response. "Stop that."

"Stop what?" I know that I'm getting to him, and I conceal a snicker. "You want me to stop telling the truth?"

"I want you to stop punching me emotionally like that. I've already been through a lot, kid. This genuine adorableness isn't helping."

"Sorry 'bout it," I giggle as I walk right past him into his living room. I take my boots off and set them on the floor, then crouch down at his end table and sift through his massive collection of vinyl records. I can hear him shuffling around behind me as I find the perfect album. There it is! A vintage tea party mix. I set it gently on the platter and start playing it. The smooth and jazzy melody starts ringing throughout the room, setting the chill and wholesome atmosphere. I turn around and Robert is gone. I hear a general noise coming from the kitchen, so I walk in to investigate.

Robert is hastily wrapping up a small box with gift wrap and packing tape. I decide to leave the scene for a moment, not wanting to rush Robert or fluster him. I stand just outside the kitchen doorway, leaning on the wall next to the door. I can hear him wrapping it for a few more minutes, until he finally finishes. The sound of his footsteps are nearing the door, so I quickly scramble away so that he doesn't know I was waiting for him. The door busts open, and he's holding the small package in his hand. "Hey," he calls.

I innocently turn around to face him, and he holds up the box. "Got somethin' for ya."

I feel a wicked smile creeping onto my face. "What? Why?"

"Why not?"

"You didn't have to."

I slowly walk over to him, taking the box with one hand and taking his free hand with my other. "What is this?" I ask, shaking the box. It's rather heavy.

"Just open and see damn it!" And so I do. I let go of his hand so that I can unwrap the gift properly. The wrapping is surprisingly delicately done; it looks so clean and pristine that I don't even want to open it. Just the fact that Robert cares about wrapping it nicely warms my heart. I carefully peel back the tape so as not to tear the paper, and a wooden box with gold trim is revealed. It looks expensive. I'm super curious now.

 

"What... did you get for me?" I ask more for dramatic effect rather than actual inquisition. I unclasp the front of the box, and when I open it, I am met with a wooden work of art. The inside of the box is lined with dark purple velvet, and sitting so delicately in the middle is a handcrafted watch. I just know that Robert made it himself—I can tell. Every link of the watch band is unique and made with care. The metal lug is smooth and shiny, and the watch face's glossy surface compliments the deep and dark texture of the wood well. I observe the detailing on the hands, and I notice that he monogrammed my initials with metal and embedded it inside the watch face. I pick it up and turn it over, and there is an engraving on the backside.

"from robert. made by robert."

I have no idea how to react to this masterpiece. The buttery melody of the vintage tea party song still dances in my ears. Robert stares at me intently, making sure that I'm really looking at it. I try to stammer out a few words of appreciation, but I can't. Nothing can describe how melted my heart is right now. He spent time on this. For me. Why? He seriously didn't have to. Holy shit.

"Uhh.. do you like it? I mean, I didn't really know if you were a jewelry guy, but I thought maybe you—"

"Robert!" I shriek, because his name is the only thing my mind can process now. Aaaaand I'm crying. I'm laughing and crying all at once, because few things have ever meant so much to me before. I wrap my arms around him as tightly as I can, almost knocking the breath out of him, and I squeeze with the might of God as I weep into his shoulder.

"Does this mean you like it?" he gasps. I pull away to breathe.

"Yes, Robert! Oh my fucking god, it's so beautiful. How did you even...? How did you make this?" I put it on my wrist and buckle the strap: it's a perfect fit. This makes me cry harder. I'm hugging him again. Into his shoulder, I mumble, "Robert. This means so much to me. So, so much." I am a wreck now, and he lifts me up before I can sag down to the ground.

"Calm down babe, it's just a watch. I didn't give you the miracle of life or anything."

"Just a watch?" I laugh in hysteria. "Oh, I'm Robert. I just casually handcraft 'just a watch' for my friends here and there. No big deal! I just make fine jewelry willy-nilly. I'm just the coolest man on Earth!"

"You know I am."

I take his hands again, and I look at his face through my teary eyes. His eyes are warm, and the corners of his lips twitch with excitement. He lets out a short laugh. "I'm glad that you like it. I just... wanted to make something for you so that you could always have a piece of me. A reminder that... that I'm okay—since that's what you so desperately wanted. Right?"

Never in my life would I have thought that a being would be capable of this magnitude of thoughtfulness. Here come the tears again.

"Stop crying please, it makes me feel like I should also be emotionally vulnerable. Which I am not okay with. Okay?" He wipes a few teardrops from my cheek, then leans down to rest his forehead against mine. He sighs with relief, and his breath is warm against my skin. I don't smell any whiskey.

"How long have you been working on this?"

"I started it about two months ago. Finished it this morning." I lean my head on his chest, my jaw starting to hurt from smiling so wide.

"Thank you, Rob. Thank you so much. This means everything to me." My entire body tingles with the warmth of this gift. "Is there any particular reason that you're giving it to me now?"

He pauses to think. "Not really. Just wanted to get it done so that you could have it."

"Cool. Regardless, I would have loved it just as much if you punched me in the face after giving it to me. In fact, I wish you'd do that now. You're being way too soft and wholesome for the Robert I know."

In a single smooth move, Robert spins and has me in a chokehold with no hesitation or remorse. I gasp for air and smack him on the chest reflexively. He lets out a small "oof!" and lets go. I didn't expect him to actually follow my command, but something about the way he gripped me so strongly turns me on.

"Oops! Sorry!"

"I can take a hit, kid. You? You're a wimp." That does it. He's lucky that there's a couch behind him, because I jump and tackle him with full force. I make impact before he can brace himself, and he falls back onto the cushions. I am sat on top of him, pinning him down by the neck with an elbow. My other hand strokes his stubble slowly.

"Bad move, Rob. I'm going to have to kill you now."

"You could never take me. You're just a pathetic little cute love bunny."

"Huh?"

"What? I thought we were roleplaying."

"No, I was actually about to kill you." I state blankly. "Boop!" I tap my finger on his nose and try to get up, but he grips my arm and pulls me down hard. I land with a crash onto his warm body.

"You're going to stay here until you die, you love bunny," he warns with a serious tone.

"I think I'll be okay with that." I snuggle into the crook of his elbow. I lay my hand on his chest, making sure that I also have a secure hold on him. His sweater is rather soft. I trace my finger along its knitted pattern. We lay there for a long time, neither falling asleep nor making an effort to get up.

Ding Dong! The doorbell rings, and we both get up with a start. I should let Robert get the door, since it is his house, but my initiative nature urges me to stride over to the front door without question. I swing the door open, and to my surprise, the guest is none other than Joseph Christiansen. He is looking down at his hands, fiddling with his nails.

"Joseph?" I blurt out. He looks up with furrowed brows and a dreaded face, but when he sees me, his eyes light up with both surprise and wonder.

"Christopher? What are you doing here?" he exclaims, fully smiling now.

"Oh, I was just—"

"I should be asking you the same thing," Robert says from behind me with a stern tone. I turn to look at him, and he has assumed a loathing manner. He has completely lost all of the warmth that I had felt just moments ago on the couch. Joseph clears his throat, and I turn back around. The previous excitement in his face has been replaced by a pained expression.

"Robert, I was just coming to confirm that you will be attending my party tomorrow. I would be delighted if you came, and—"

"Yeah. I'm going," Robert interrupts with a snarl. "Is that all you want?"

"Well... I guess." Joseph glances at me, then back at Robert, and then back to me. "You can drop off all of the groceries at my place tomorrow morning."

"I will," I reply. We all stand there with nothing else to say. I can't see Robert because he's behind me, but I just know that he is staring Joseph down.

"Well, I'll get going now. The party playlist won't make itself, am I right? Haha? See you both tomorrow. Goodbye, dears!" And with that and a nervous smile, he is treading back home with intense speed. Robert wraps his long arms around me protectively from behind. He rests his head on my shoulder and grumbles in my ear.

"I didn't know you were on the planning committee."

"Yeah, that's why you saw Joseph and I meeting up a few times. Hard work, it is."

Robert lets go of me and steps back. Maybe I should not have mentioned that. "Next time, leave it for the man. He works better alone, anyways." Robert turns and starts towards the kitchen.

"Robert, wait! What's your problem?" I call.

"Nothing. You wouldn't get it." he mumbles. He disappears through the kitchen door. After thinking for a moment, I conclude that I've had it with this dark attitude. I can't take it anymore. Can't he just tell me why he hates Joseph and then move on? Why does he have to get so pissy every time Joseph is even brought up? Fuck, I'm so over this. I grab the watch box, quickly throw my boots on, then storm out of Robert's house, making sure to slam the door on my way out. The sunset is almost complete, and the chilly air bites at my skin when I get outside. The leaves still crunch and the wind still blows on my way back home, but this time it's less satisfying. More of a nuisance, in fact.

When I get inside, I wipe off my rain boots and set them aside. I walk over to the bookshelf and set the hand-crafted watch box on the second-to-top shelf. I unbuckle the band and and admire the craftsmanship once more. Absolutely beautiful. I run my finger over the engraving on the back, fighting the urge to sprint back to Robert's place and plant a huge kiss on his cheek. No. I'm mad at him right now. I place the watch delicately in the soft velvet of the box. What a fucking character, that guy.


	8. Party Time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's time for the seasonal neighborhood get-together!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one is quite long! Hope you enjoy it!

7:15 a.m. ring ring!

My unusually early alarm bell goes off, drilling into my brain and blasting away the sweet temporary release of sleep. I shoot straight up into a sitting position, gripping the end of my blanket. My delirious sleep thoughts still infest my brain, and I try to shake them off. You're awake. You are on your bed in your room in your home in Maple Bay. There is something big happening today. Get up and get ready. Someone special is waiting for you. I blindly grab for the glass of water that is usually on my bedside stand, and I bring it to my lips to take a sip. It's empty. I quietly groan as I toss my blanket off my body to the end of my bed and stand up.

The early morning sun beams through my windows, casting an innocent glow on the walls of my house. I sleepily smile to myself as I fill my cup with water. Things will end up okay.

7:46 a.m.

I have just finished loading all of the supplies for the party into my car, and I'm deciding on what to wear to the party. Should I go with a polo? A blazer? A vest? How fancy do these parties get? Maybe I could just change later, since I'm only a short walk away. I decide that's the best option, and I remain in my plain white t-shirt and silk shorts. I quickly throw on a soft pullover to keep myself warm. I strap on Robert's watch on my way out the front door.

When I pull up in Joseph's driveway, I notice that I'm the first one. No other cars here but his. I stride over to his door, bags of groceries in hand, and use the anchor-shaped door knocker.

"You can come in! The door is unlocked!" Joseph hollers from somewhere deeper inside the house. I sleepily nudge my way in, careful not to knock the bag I'm holding into anything. I navigate my way through his living room and into the kitchen, where I find him hovering above the stove. I set the plastic bag down and drink in the sight. Joseph's luscious golden hair is undone and wild, but still very clean and soft. He's wearing his pastel blue sweater, which fits him nicely and gives his sculpted frame a warmer look. My eyes drift down, further examining his cozy apparel. To complete the look, he is sporting—Oh! He's just wearing underwear as his bottom. They're white boxers with little red cartoon life rings printed in a repeated pattern. I find this extremely charming. The fabric hugs his perky butt tightly, making me—

"Ah, my dear! Christopher!" He throws his hands up welcomingly, striding in my direction. "You came at the perfect time! I was just making crêpes for the morning crew!" He is hugging me now, his toned forearms tightly squeezing my body. I hug him back, taking a full whiff of his natural musk, indulging in how sweet he smells. I can also smell the sugary crêpes sizzling atop the stove.

"It smells amazing in here!" I exclaim. I bury my face into one of Joseph's shoulders. My hands slide lower and lower, and since he doesn't stop me, I bring them to a rest on his butt. His body gets tense, and he exhales deeply. He reciprocates and grabs my butt as well, and now we're full on groping each other. I grab at his cheeks, appreciating how firm and round they are. He lets out a low snicker, one that I rarely get to hear. The skillet begins sizzling extra wildly and pulls Joseph right back into reality.

"Oh!" he shrieks as he hurriedly lets go of me and runs to the stove to finish the crêpe. He scrapes it off the skillet and onto a plate in a smooth, practiced motion. "You can go ahead and take a seat in the backyard, dear. I promise I'll be right out! Oh, do you prefer orange juice or lemonade?"

"I'll take whatever. But if you have lemonade, I'll take that over anything else."

"Got it!"

When I get outside, I pull out a chair and plop myself down on it. I start twiddling my thumbs. My legs shiver because I'm just wearing pajama shorts, but I guess I will just have to deal with it. The sunrise continues, blasting the sky with a bright orange hue. I can see storm clouds in the distance, but not nearly close enough to impact us. I can hear plates clanging and food sizzling as Joseph keeps cooking inside. After a few more minutes of chilly thumb twiddling, the porch door opens as Joseph pushes it with his backside. Both of his hands are balancing large, steaming plates, and tucked under his elbows are various bottles of toppings. On top of his golden head, a margarita glass is perched.

"Oh my god!" I spring up to help him carry the load.

"No, no! I've got it, trust me," he grins, intensely focusing on his destination, and not dropping anything on the way there. He almost manages to accomplish the feat, but I grab the glass on his head at the split second before it tips over. He chuckles, gives an appreciative "ah," and sets all of the food on the table. The steaming crêpes are topped with strawberries, blueberries, and bananas, and filled with an oozing mix of cream cheese and butter. The toppings available include: more powdered sugar, whipped cream, maple syrup, a bowl of crushed almonds, more butter and cream cheese, and an entire bowl of more fresh fruit. I am definitely hungry.

"Wow Joseph, this is fantastic! You are definitely the finest chef in all of Maple Bay."

He chortles. "Ha! Thank you, I do my best. I'm working on receiving that title." He sits down and picks up a fork.

Before he starts digging in, I interrupt, "Shouldn't we wait for the others?" Halfway through my sentence, I realize that there are only two plates. Are Mary and Damien not coming? Did he invite them early? Confused, I take a step back.

Joseph knows what I'm thinking. He smiles politely. "Christopher, the others didn't need to come early. You're the only one I invited. I thought we could have a nice breakfast together."

"Oh yeah, of course!" I try to ignore the fact that my heart is pounding its way out of my chest. This man is so genuinely charming. I sit back down at the table, pulling my plate closer. I roll a couple of fresh fruit bits from the bowl onto my plate, and let the maple syrup flow. Joseph has pre-cut the stick of butter into thin squares, so I take one and place it atop my crêpe. A few bursts of whipped cream complete my design, and I start slicing with my fork.

In between bites, Joseph manages, "You excited for the party?"

"Heck yeah!" Chewing. "I think it will be... uh... lit."

Joseph finishes chewing his next bite. "What's that?"

"I don't really know. Amanda says it a lot to describe something pleasant."

"Hm." Munch. "I'll take note of that."

Lots of munching and chewing.

"This tastes phenomenal," I add.

"Why, thank you!" he says, nodding in appreciation and agreement. We then finish our breakfast in peaceful silence as the sun continues rising.

I stand up and pick up my plate to take it over to the sink inside, but Joseph shakes his head and makes an "mm-mm" noise of warning, mouth still full of crêpe. I stop in my tracks, and he finishes swallowing. "Don't. I got it," he waves me over to sit back down.

"No, it's no big deal. I can help," I affirm. I won't lose this battle.

"Come on Christopher, don't let yourself do everything."

"You literally cooked and prepared this whole meal! Let me pay you back, please!" My voice rises in volume.

"Oh, it was nothing. You're the guest here. I'll handle it." He slowly gets up, stacking the plates and toppings neatly. He wraps an arm around me and pulls me in, giving me a light peck on my forehead. We linger for a second, enjoying the warmth of the other in the midst of the cool autumn air— then he lets go, returns to the plates, and starts carrying them back inside. He casually pumps the aerosol whipped cream directly into his mouth as he walks. Damn, what a smooth man. I rub the tender spot where his lips blessed my face.

After hanging out on the porch for a while, alone with my thoughts, I join Joseph inside. He's eating the leftover pieces of fruit that we didn't finish. He looks up at me with seductive eyes, continuing to fork the chopped cubes into his mouth. His hair is still a little messy, and it almost glitters in the sun that is now fully out.

"You're beautiful," I blurt out without thinking.

Joseph almost chokes on a strawberry chunk. "Oh! Uh—" He coughs violently, dislodging the food from his throat. "Thank you...?" he mutters, wiping up his spitty mess. "What makes you say that?" He is faintly blushing.

I don't answer, and instead, prance over to his chair. I stand behind him and lean over, pulling out my phone and opening up the camera function. I tap the "flip camera" button (Amanda taught me how to do this before leaving home; she wanted me to take pictures of what I was doing to keep her updated) and reveal Joseph's face to himself. He stares at his image on the phone, and before he can say anything, I lean in closer and plant a kiss on his cheek, pressing the "take photo" button simultaneously. Click!

"See? You're beautiful," I insist, pulling up the photo that I just took. In it, Joseph's eyes are wide open, his lips pulled in a slight smile. My eyes are closed, my lips firmly pressed upon his face. Perhaps I shouldn't send this one to Amanda.

He takes my phone in his hand and looks at the picture for a moment, before turning and grabbing the back of my head, pulling me in for a real kiss this time. I bend my knees to lower myself to his face, and our lips lock inseparably. I start pulling at his sweater, desperate for something to cling to in this fiery heat. He stands up slowly, making sure that we maintain our connection. He rests his palm on the side of my hip, his other hand still grabbing the back of my head, ever so slightly pulling my hair. We start moving to the couch in unison, when—

Thump thump thump!

Somebody is knocking on the door. I break the kiss immediately, taking a step back. He gives me a dreamy look, his eyes begging for more, then turns and strides over to the front door. I sit down on the couch, a little disappointed that we couldn't keep going.

"Ah, hello! Please, come in!" I hear rustling and the door closing. Joseph reappears in the living room, Damien following behind him. I happily wave to Damien, who waves back and says, "Good morning."

Thump thump thump!

"That must be Mary," Damien says. "She was driving behind me." He swivels around to return to the front door to let Mary in. She glides into the room, wearing her normal brown turtleneck with blue skinny jeans. She's carrying a large box that rattles with every movement, and heftily sets it down in the middle of the room with a small grunt. She dusts her hands off and fixes her hair.

"Hey," she mutters. We all nod at her.

Joseph claps his hands, startling me. "Well! Let's get started! Cristopher, could you help Mary with setting up the decorations? Damien and I will begin cooking. We've got a lot of work to do!"

4:12 p.m.

I wipe the sweat off my brow as I climb down the ladder that Mary is holding steadily.

"That's the last of them!" I sigh with great relief. We have been hanging up lights and streamers and other various decorations outside for hours.

"Good work, kiddo," she applauds.

"You too, Mary. Wanna get something to drink?"

"The only alcohol in this house is sweet liqueur," she complains. "But, sure." We walk in through the backyard door to see children running rampant in the home. Christie hops over the couch, shrieking wildly with some sort of action figure in her hand. Christian follows shortly behind, tripping over the armrest and face-planting into the cushions. Christie breaks out in a fit of laughter, also falling onto the chair.

Joseph shouts over the commotion, "Kids, calm down! We have guests here, and plenty more will be coming later."

"Yes, dad," they say in unison. They both sprint off into another room to continue hooting and hollering.

"Joseph, got anything for us to drink?" Mary requests. "We're pooped."

"Hmm, give me a minute. I'll cook something up for you both." Mary and I take a seat on one of the sofas, and she grabs one of the nautical magazines sitting on the coffee table. After she gets a page in, she starts pulling off her turtleneck. Underneath, she's wearing a silky long-sleeve blouse that has lace on the cuffs and neckline.

"I like your shirt," I comment, hoping to start up a conversation.

A long silence. She doesn't even look up from the magazine. A longer silence. She breathes in deeply, then glares at me. "Thank you," she responds and goes back to her magazine. I guess that's the end of that. I pull out my phone, and the first thing that comes up when I turn it on is the photo of Joseph and I that I took earlier this morning. Afraid that she will see it, I quickly turn my phone facedown on my lap. After making sure that she's not looking, I reveal it again. Joseph looks so pure in this moment; there are no bags under his eyes, and he's not making that "false happy" face that I've observed him to make when talking to churchgoers and others alike. I like this photo. I'm staring at it so hard that I don't even notice Joseph standing right above me until he clears his throat.

"The cocktail train has arrived at its destination!" he resounds proudly. He hands me a glass. "For you, a strawberry daiquiri." I take it, and the cold glass chills my hands. He dances over to Mary dramatically, and hands her a drink as well. "For you, a bourbon-chocolate milkshake!" A huge grin. "My very own recipe," he adds. She smiles at him, and I see that it's genuinely grateful smile. We both say our thanks as he returns to the sizzling pots and pans on the stove.

I decide to text Amanda while sipping my drink.

"Hey sweetheart. How r you doing? Havent heard from u in a while. Call me? Today is the neighborhood party!" I attach a picture that I took earlier of Joseph, when Damien tripped while holding a box of macaroni, sending them flying everywhere, and bits of noodles got lodged in his hair. Joseph is holding in a laugh, and Mary smiles in the background, throwing a 'thumbs up' at the camera. Send.

After Mary and I finish our beverages in silence, Damien calls us into the dining room. Joseph is fluttering around the dinner table, making sure that all of the silverware is set out properly. He sees that we are gathered and abruptly stands up straight, folding his arms behind his back.

"Alright crew, the party starts in approximately thirty minutes. Put your best attitudes on, because we've got a big crowd this time. Be welcoming and—"

"Joseph, you've been through this speech hundreds of times before. We know how to treat guests," Mary interjects. Joseph falters and slumps over.

"Mary, can I at least pretend to be a ship commander for once?"

"Alright, have at it," she sighs. Joseph's posture straightens once more.

"Like I was just saying, be welcoming and warm. Remember, we are here to serve three things: hospitality, friendship, and free food! Party team, roll out!" Joseph squeaks. None of us budge.

"Uh, where to are we rolling out?" Damien inquires.

"Are hospitality and friendship kinda the same thing?" Mary adds.

"Let's go!" I yell, mainly to boost Joseph's spirits. He smiles and looks at me with wildly excited eyes.

"Yeah!" he yells back.

THUMP THUMP THUMP!

All of our heads snap towards the door, then turn to each other. We all think, A guest? Already? It's too early!

Joseph takes the lead and approaches the door with caution. He looks through the peephole, and without a further comment he pulls the door open, just enough for him to poke his face through the crack.

"What are you doing here?" I hear Joseph scold the visitor.

"Oh, am I not invited anymore?" the voice sasses back. It is deep, husky, and familiar. Could that be...?

"No, no, of course you are! You are welcome in right now, it's just—"

"Is Chris here?" the voice urges.

"Yeah, he's in the dining ro—"

Robert pushes the door open and knocks Joseph out of the way, taking his yellow sunglasses off to scan the room for me. When we lock eyes, I feel a tingle go down my spine. Robert is wearing a white polo shirt accompanied by his leather jacket and black jeans, and though it's simple, he looks stunning. His hair is combed through but still exudes his messy and rough aesthetic.

We all say, "Robert!" in unison. Damien approaches him first to give him a firm handshake that turns into an awkward bro hug. Mary then gives him a hug too, followed by a weird high five handshake. I see Joseph sneaking back to the kitchen to tend to the food, and I also approach Robert. I open my arms for a hug, but he forcefully grabs my hand and shakes it. The shake jolts me, and I suddenly feel cold and rejected. I look into his eyes, and they are cold and dark.

"Uh, how are you?" I ask nervously.

"I'm doing fine," he mumbles, thinking for a moment. "Can we talk, Chris? Outside?" I look at Damien and Mary, searching for any answers or help, and they both subtly shrug at me with sorry expressions.

I look back at Robert. "Sure?" He takes my hand and pulls me to the front porch. I close the door behind me, and he places both his hands on my shoulders. "What is this all about?" I ask. We immensely stare into each other's eyes for a short while, until he speaks up.

"Why did you leave me yesterday?"

"What? What do you mean? I didn't—" I realize that I did, in fact, leave him yesterday.

"I was making you dinner, you asshole. You can't just leave in the middle of things like that. I've learned that from experience. I thought there was some sort of emergency, but you seem to be fine now. What the fuck, man?"

All of the color drains from my face as I fail to form a sentence. "I-I... Uh, Robert..." I lean in to pull the "shut up" kiss, the "make out and make up" kiss, but he firmly pushes me back.

"I'm not letting you pull that shit on me, kid. Answer the damn question."

I guess there's only one option here. I am a man of truth. "Robert, I'm sorry!" I shout. "I was pissed off at you because you were rude to Joseph and I don't know why you hate him so much because from my experience he's a really great guy and I was tired of you constantly being so negative towards him and I just want all of my friends to be friends I hate having aggression in relationships and I don't want to lose either of you because you both mean a lot to me!" Robert takes a step back, startled by my outburst. He still looks angry, but his hostility has died down.

"Oh, uh, well, maybe you should talk to me about it next time, before storming away like that!" he yells in reply.

"I'm sorry Robert! I have realized my mistake and I will take into account your position next time! I will work on being more considerate and understanding rather than jumping to extremes! Do you accept my apology?!" This yelling thing really is tiring.

Robert considers my words for a moment, before hollering at the top of his lungs, "YES! I BELIEVE THAT PEOPLE LEARN AND GROW. I ACCEPT YOUR APOLOGY. PLUS I DON'T LIKE FIGHTING WITH YOU BECAUSE YOU'RE REALLY CUTE AND HARD TO BE MAD AT. LET'S GO INSIDE NOW." He tries to suppress a smile as he's saying this, and breaks at the very end. He doubles over in a booming fit of laughter, and I join in. He then wraps me up in a warm hug and whispers in my ear. "Just, please, talk to me next time? I was really mad when I walked out of the kitchen and you were gone. I gave your dinner to Betsy."

"Okay Robert, I promise I will. I'm still sorry. Can I make it up to you somehow?" I choke out; he still has me in a bear hug.

He lets go to think briefly, mumbles "I fucking love you," then swiftly goes in for a kiss. At first I am shocked, but then I melt into his arms. His passionate kisses are irresistible. We're kissing in broad daylight, in the middle of the neighborhood. But that's okay. Wait, did he say that he loves me? The door opens, and I hear Mary begin a sentence.

"Hey, Chrissy, Joseph wants to know if—Oh!"

Robert continues smooching me rapidly as I turn to Mary. "He wants to know if what?" I push Robert back to let Mary talk.

"Joseph wants to know if Robert wants anything to eat or drink since he's early, but it looks like you two are busy," she smirks. Robert advances towards her.

"Got a problem?" he interrogates.

Mary throws her hands up in surrender. "No! You two can go at it! Just tell me if you want a snack!" Her eyebrows raise in a mockingly innocent face.

"I'll talk to Christiansen myself," Robert barks. He starts dragging me into Joseph's house, and Mary trails behind. As we're making our way through the halls, I tap Robert on the shoulder. I have to get away to think for a moment, to clear my mind.

"Be right back, I have to go use the bathroom." I disappear through a random door. The room is dark, and I run my hand along the wall until I locate the light switch. I flip it on, and the room illuminates. The whole layout of the space is centered around a work desk in the middle of the room, accompanied by a classy office chair and an expensive computer monitor. Two bookshelves guard the desk, every shelf packed with different books, bibles, crosses, and other knickknacks. This is Joseph's office. Though the room is mostly neat, folders and files are lightly scattered across the floor. I take a step over a stack of papers to get to his desk. His computer is still on, humming with life. He has multiple pens laying around on his desk, each one a different color for organizing purposes. There is also a calendar on his desk, and I turn it around to read it. He put large red "X"s on the days that have already passed. Today is marked "party time!" and circled in pink. Other plans he has for the week include a meeting with the church leaders, lunch with Mary, and another mixer he has planned for the Youth. I set the calendar back down where I found it. The only other thing on his desk is a small wooden case with golden trim. It strikes me when I see it, because I swear I've seen it before. It looks so familiar... Maybe I saw it in a gift shop somewhere? Or... I can't put my finger on it. The box seems to stare back at me. I wonder what's in it that is so important that he has to keep it on his desk... Should I? My curiosity gets the best of me, and I flip the latch up. I begin lifting the lid, and something sparkles from inside. My heart starts pounding as I realize what it is. The lid is all the way up now, and inside the box, sitting on a pile of velvet, is a handcrafted compass. Its frame was crafted from dark and sturdy wood, and its glossy face compliments the wood beautifully. There is intricate metal detailing on the tick marks and rulings, and a "J.C." is monogrammed in the middle. I turn the compass over and run my finger over the engraving on the back.

"From Rob. So you can always find me."

The compass feels cold and heavy in my palm, almost burning me. I quickly set it back in the box and close it up. My heart is racing now, beating against my chest so rapidly that it hurts. My lungs feel smoky, breathing becoming increasingly more difficult by the second. None of this makes sense, yet it answers all of my questions at once. The way Joseph and Robert act towards each other. Why Mary is so bitter to Joseph. Heck, even why Robert doesn't like to be called "Rob" by me. It all comes together. I know now. These two people had an affair, and now I'm falling for both at once. Even though the lights are still on, I can only see darkness. I can feel my senses slowing down...was that drink really that strong? I stumble around the office, tripping over folders and files. I grab onto the nearest sturdy object, gasping for air. This is not what I expected, and not how I wanted things to be. I've seen too much. I collapse to the ground in a fit of coughing and sputtering, my heart in my stomach.

8:00 p.m.

My brain pounds against my skull, threatening to break free. My eyes ache, and the inside of my throat feels raw and rough. I force my eyelids open, and a fire courses through my body. Holy shit, I'm on fire, I think. I wipe the sweat off my forehead. Nope, I just have a fever, I rationalize. I stare up at the ceiling fan, spinning like a blur. Where the fuck am I? I do my best to look around, trying to make sense of my surroundings. I'm wrapped up in a red blanket, and the bed I'm on is made of dark beech wood. The walls are painted a warm ashy grey, and a red armchair sits in the corner. There are multiple ashtrays dotted around the room, and I see a figure pacing back and forth outside on the balcony. He's smoking a cigarette, occasionally stopping to lean against the railing and look out in the distance. The setting sun casts a yellow-orange glow upon him, highlighting his sweaty nervous face.

I try to get up quickly, which is a horrible idea. My head starts spinning and I see black dots dancing around. I fall back down to the mattress with a crash, which alerts Robert. He presses his cigarette into an ashtray and rushes back inside, approaching me slowly as if not to startle me. Though I feel like Death himself, I manage a dazed smile at Robert, whose concerned demeanor goes soft. He pulls my blanket up further, but I push it back and slowly shake my head.

"I'm... hot..." I croak. He nods his head and sets the blanket back down. His eyes light up like he just remembered something, and he holds up a finger to signal "be right back." He rushes out of the room.

Seconds later, he returns with a glass of ice water. He walks to the side of the bed where I lay, squatting down to reach me. I reach out to take it, but he doesn't let me. He slowly brings it to my lips, tipping it just enough to let a sip trickle down my throat. I have a hard time swallowing, but it cools me down as soon as I do. Robert sets the glass down on his bedside table. He takes my hand in his and squeezes it. I've never seen him this protective and caring before.

"You need anything else?" he quietly asks.

"...you..." I whisper, clasping his hands between both of mine and pulling him in, almost managing to keep a serious face before breaking and giggling at my own cheesiness. He chuckles. Robert walks over to the other side of the bed and climbs in, pulling the edge of the blanket over himself and snuggling up to me. I'm still facing the other side, so he pulls me into a spooning position and engulfs me. He interlaces his arms with mine, making me feel protected and secure. He rests his head right behind me, and leans his face in close to give me a kiss on the back of my neck. I'm glad he can't see me smiling like an idiot.

"What... what happened?" I gasp.

Robert thinks for a moment, then begins with a low voice, "We didn't know what you were doing. We just assumed that you were having a bad time in the bathroom, so the party continued. After about an hour, I started to worry. I asked Christiansen where you were and he didn't know, so we both started looking. He found you in his office, out like a light. I felt your fever and knew that you over-worked and over-drank. So, I offered to take you in for the night. Christiansen wasn't sure about it at first, but I fought for you. And that's that."

I take this all in, my fever still scrambling my thought process. "I know how to cure it," I claim, rolling over to face Robert. He looks genuinely intrigued.

"How?" he replies.

"Kiss me," I demand. He is taken aback for a split second, but does not hesitate to lean forward and lock his lips with mine. As if my fever wasn't enough, his kiss sends an intense fieriness throughout my body, making my skin tingle. However, his warmth is somewhat comforting rather than agitating. He does most of the work, making sure that I'm in a comfortable position and I don't strain myself.

"You feel cured yet?" he teases. I let out a small snicker and pull him in as close as possible. We share short smooches between the longer, more passionate ones, and he starts moving down my neck with his lips. I reach over and grab his pants, starting to unbuckle his belt. At first he lets me, but when I start unzipping his jeans, he stops and breathes heavily for a moment.

"Wait," he warns. "You need to rest. I don't want to overdo anything."

 

I begin to protest, but I realize that I really am exhausted and feverish. Not the best condition for this. "You're right," I agree.

"Don't get me wrong," Robert adds. "I just want you to be healthy."

"I got you, baby. It's okay. We have all the time in the world."

He chuckles and looks away. "Oh, I wish." He rolls onto his back and stares up at the ceiling. I throw an arm across him and snuggle up against the side of his body: my favorite cuddle position. I rest my chin on the top of his shoulder and whisper into his ear.

"I like you."

"I like you too, Chris..." he seems to struggle with his thoughts. "Just go to sleep. We can talk later."

I rarely obey him easily, but this one time I will. The brilliant pink of the setting sun floods Robert's bedroom, and the wind faintly murmurs in my ear as I settle down into a sweet slumber.


	9. Imminent Change

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things change. People come and go.

9:00 a.m.

beep beep beep! beep beep beep! beep beep beep!

Robert's alarm goes off, waking us both up.

"Shit, shit I'm sorry..." he sleepily grumbles as he digs around for his phone to disable it.

"No... it's fine..." I mumble back, rolling around in his warm sheets. I rub my eyes and open them to look at him. Whoah, when did his shirt come off? I look down. When did mine come off? I would love to admire his body, but I feel too tired for that right now. I yawn lay back down. "Don't worry about it." I feel Robert come to a rest beside me, and I assert myself as his little spoon. He allows it, curling his body to fit mine. He smells like smoke and wood chips.

Even though we're both tired, neither of us can go back to sleep. We spend a while just looking at each other through heavy eyelids. I bring my hand up towards his hair, running my fingers through his unkempt locks. I caress his face, barely grazing his skin, and then start making my way down lower. I'm grabbing his muscular arm, admiring his dark and smooth skin. He doesn't say a word, but instead closes his eyes and lets it happen. I wrestle my hand under his arm and start stroking his waist, where I know he's ticklish.

"Stop that," he winces. I don't stop that. He smacks my hand lightly and turns around to face the other side.

"Aww c'mon Robert, you don't want a visit from the tickle monster?" I tease.

Instead of replying, he quickly rolls over and jumps on me, using his long fingers to tickle my neck, sides, waist, everywhere he can reach and as quickly as possible. I don't go down without a fight, of course. I attack him with strategy, going in for his armpits first, and then reaching around for the back of his knees. He collapses on top of me, roaring wildly like a child. I'm giggling too, unable to contain it.

Our fit of laughter dies down after a while, and we end up with our limbs entangled. Robert brings his face down real close to mine, close enough that our noses bump. He then bites my lip, making me squeeze his arm in shock and pleasure. We pull away for a second, nothing to fill the awkward pause.

I contemplate for a moment, then scoot up to him real close. I've been thinking about saying this for a long time; now seems better than ever to let it out. "Robert... I think I love you. I know I love you."

He turns away, slightly frowning. "Chris... stop it. I know you like me, but you don't know all of me. I—"

I'm sitting up straight now. "No, Robert. I don't. But I know for sure that I care about you, and I don't ever want to lose you. I think about you all the time, and I truly don't know how I'd go on without you. I'm so tired of this passive intimacy we have going on; I want to fully love you. And I want you to accept it. I've been wanting to tell you this for so long, but I've always held back because you asked for space. I respected that to an extent, but when you tease me and kiss me all the time, it's hard not to fall for you all over again. You're right, I don't know all of you. But you are one hell of a guy and I want to be with you. Please, let me love you?" I beg.

Robert doesn't answer. I see that he's trembling, and eventually a sniffle comes out. I give him time to process. "I... Chris, baby, I don't know. I'm scared. I hate it when things go wrong, because I know I'll go back to my bad habits again, but... I just don't know. I'm sorry." he shivers and sobs. I turn away, leaning my head on my hand. I knew he wouldn't accept me so easily. It's just so frustrating when he beats himself up so much over things that I'm willing to help him with.

I abruptly get up and get dressed. "I have to go," I lie. "I'll talk to you later." I walk out of his bedroom before he can say a word.

I'm soothed as soon as I get outside, the cool air swirling around my skin. I only quickly dart into my house to grab a warmer jacket, then I continue walking along the cul-de-sac and out into the street. I mindlessly stroll on, replaying the scene that just happened. I reminisce on what I could've said, rewording my sentences and pausing more to let him talk. I fucked up, I admit to myself.

I somehow end up in front of the doors of The Coffee Spoon, peering in with longing eyes. Mat pops up out of nowhere and makes me jump. "Are you gonna come in?" he jokes.

I take a step back, realizing where I am. "Oh, yeah. Of course!" He holds the door open for me as I walk inside, the cozy warmth of the shop engulfing me.

"The regular?" Mat asks. I nod and take a seat at a secluded booth. While I wait for my drink, I decide to check my phone; to my surprise, I see flurry of texts from Robert.

"hey chris"

"im sorry"

"im really sorry"

"can we talk?"

"i have something i need to tell you"

"where are you"

I close my eyes and take a deep breath. Distressed thoughts swirl around in my mind, jumbling my train of thought. I tentatively type out a reply.

"Yeah. Im at the coffee spoon right now. Ill wait for you."

I stare blankly at my phone's screen for a few minutes until Mat prances over with my drink. "Just how you like it," he adds, placing the hot cup in front of me. I look up at him and smile.

"Thanks, Mat. You're the best."

"Anything for my buddy!" He lingers for a second. "Sorry, that came out weird. I don't like the word 'buddy'. Um...I'll go." I smile at his endearment, and he shuffles away awkwardly. I take a slow sip of my drink, careful not to burn my tongue. The shopkeep's bell suddenly rings, jolting my body and making me take a big gulp of the scalding coffee. My body slightly convulses from shock, and as I'm trying to recover, I feel a large hand on my back.

"You okay?" Robert asks. I look up at him, and I notice that his eyes are dark and puffy. His bedhead hair is still unkempt, and he's wearing way too little for the cold weather.

"I should be asking you the same thing. Aren't you cold?" I retort. He just takes the seat across from me and looks down. He opens his mouth a feel times, the start of his sentence barely being choked out, but he stops himself every time. I know that I need to be patient with him, but I itch to know what he wants to tell me.

"Chris," he says sternly after a long while. My spine shivers every time he says my name like that.

"Robert," I reply.

"I'm... uh... I'm checking in. To rehab." His eyes dart around, failing to meet mine. My stomach lurches, and I sit there, dumbfounded. So many emotions flood me at once, I can't even comprehend what he just said. Thankfully, before I can break down, he adds, "I'm leaving tomorrow morning. I don't know when I'll be back."

This hits me like a truck. I can't even bring myself to drink my coffee anymore—this is not at all what I had expected. But...I'm glad. Yes, I will miss him a whole lot. Hell, I miss him even when I know he's just next door. I'm afraid of my inability to survive without him. But, this is what's best. After another very long silence, he speaks out again.

"I'm doing this for both of us, Chris. I'm just...so sick of hating myself. I feel like my own self-destruction is ruining you too. It's not good. I really need help. I want to help myself for you." He goes on about how much he cares about me, but I can't hear him over my own ringing ears. Tears well up in my eyes, and my heart starts pounding with extra force. Emotion overwhelms me, and I'm lunging across the table to embrace my love. He grunts and assumes a defensive stance at first, but he lets it happen. "Chris...don't cry. Please. I'm so sorry for how I've been treating you. And myself. Don't cry, please don't cry." I don't even care that we're in public anymore. This man deserves so much love, and I know that things will work out in the end.


	10. Longing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Christopher tries to survive on his own.

I slept in with Robert the night before he left to check into rehab, and I woke up to an empty bed with a small note that read:

"chris-

—to contact me, please write a letter to the address listed below. i won't have my phone with me.

—please feed Betsy twice a day and let her outside when she needs to go. food refill in garage.

—i will write you when im coming back. i really miss you already. stay outta trouble.

—not that you're cool enough to get into trouble.

—you look so cute when you sleep."

Although the note was scrawled in a hurry, his handwriting was still impeccably legible, strong...sexy, even.

I keep the note in my wallet, pulling it out whenever I need to be reminded of him. Two weeks later, and I still haven't written to him yet. It's not that I don't want to talk to him, I just haven't felt the motivation or had the courage to do it yet. I don't want to be too clingy, especially during a time when he needs to focus on himself the most. But I so desperately want to talk to him again.

For the first week after he left, I stayed in my house, mourning all day, only leaving during lunchtime and dinner to take care of Betsy. At first I tried bringing her to my place to make things more convenient, but she refused to leave her home. I guess I don't mind the extra exercise. Last week I started going to the pet shelter with Damien, only because I really need a distraction from my empty bed. I spend my whole day here, working so much overtime the the manager offered me a position there. I gladly took him up on it, figuring that I had nothing better to do with my life currently.

10:00 a.m. the day is saturday. two weeks after the departure of robert.

I roll out of bed and straight into the shower, almost forgetting to strip off my PJs. I lean against the cold tile wall, letting the water slowly trickle down my body. I let my mind awaken itself, then hop out and get dressed. I have work in forty minutes, giving me just enough time to stop by Robert's to feed Betsy. I grab my work bag and head out the door to meet the cool fall air. My day is starting.

Betsy loudly yaps as soon as I open the door, scrambling over to me and jumping on my legs.

"Hey! Hey, girl! Hey!" I coo excitedly. This dog brings me so much joy, it's hard to contain it. I scoop her up and cuddle her tightly, imagining that Robert can feel my cuddles through her. "You hungry?" I ask, setting her down and walking over to the little corner where Robert set up a space for her. A large quilt lays across the floor, a nice dog bed and other pet essentials laying atop it. I fill her bowl with food and give her a nice rub on the head. "There you go, girl. Eat up! We've got a long day ahead," I tell her, standing up and turning away to make my way out.

Once I've made it to the pet shelter, I sit down at the desk and give a big sigh. My shift is short today, but I'm willing to work overtime. It's not like I have anything better to do. I spend the day greeting customers and helping out with paperwork because that's what I do best. Damien stops by during lunchtime and works for about an hour or two, but heads back home quickly. The day is slow, only a few guests appearing every hour. I spend my downtime doodling little caricatures of various people—the sheltergoers, myself, Robert... mostly Robert. I take a deep breath and clear my head.

I cannot take my mind off him no matter how hard I try, and it's slowly killing me. I think I'm starting to develop some sort of separation anxiety, because when I feel loneliest, it consumes me, and I'm unable to do anything at all.

"Hey, how're you doing?" my manager's voice calls out from behind me. I look up from my notepad and whip around to face him.

"Oh, I'm fine. Thanks," I reply.

"You know, you've been working way too much lately. I think you should go home now. Enjoy your family." He urges, taking the papers right off my desk to file them himself.

I don't have anyone, I'm urged to say. "You sure? I'm okay with staying," I mumble instead.

"Yeah, nothing's really happening now anyways. Go home and treat yourself." He smiles at me, and I start packing my bag to head back home. I look at my wooden watch. 8:49 p.m, it reads. Damn, I really did stay late. I hope Betsy could hold out this long. I trudge back to the cul-de-sac, making a beeline for Robert's house. I am greeted, as usual, with enthusiasm by Betsy, and I give her a filling of food. I watch as she munches and crunches on it, entertained by her simplicity. I take a deep breath, the smell of smoke and wood chips swirling in my lungs. I suddenly get an idea.

Rummaging through his messy closet, I finally find one. A warm Robert sweater. Worn by Robert. I shove it into my nose, taking a deep whiff of it. Smells like Robert. I smile and close my eyes, imagining if he were here right now, wearing this sweater. I put it on and instantly feel warmer. Very warm, actually. I sit down on his bed, the warmth and comfort of it drawing me in. I lay down, running my hand over the soft sheets, remembering all of the nights I'd fallen asleep in this bed with its owner. My heart hurts at the memory of him, and I feel a tight pang in my chest. This happens every time I think of him.

My eyelids grow heavier as I drown in thoughts of Robert, and I somehow end up cozied up in his sheets. I look up at his unmoving ceiling fan. Its stillness captures me, exactly mirroring how serene I feel right now. Wait, I don't feel serene. I feel anxious. Worry bubbles inside me. How is Robert doing? I'll write to him tomorrow. My eyes eventually close, the soft whisper of the wind outside singing a sweet lullaby for me.

9:23 a.m.

I wake up with a start. I have to go to work! I sit right up, panic coursing through my veins. This isn't my bed. Or my room. I frantically roll around, looking for a clock. I randomly wave my hand around, and it lands in an ash tray. The realization hits me. I fell asleep in Robert's bed. I turn to the other side where I know he keeps his alarm clock. 9:23 a.m. Oh, thank god. I'm not late. Wait, what day is it? I think too long about this. I realize that it's Sunday, and I lay back down with relief, closing my eyes again. Today is my day off, and I know what that means—laying in bed and mourning the absence of Robert. I'm quickly drawn back into the spell of sleep.

11:38 a.m.

A scratching on the side of the bed wakes me up, momentarily panicking me. I roll on my side to look down at the attacker, and Betsy's pudgy face stares back at me. I smile and reach down to pat her head. "You hungry?" I croak. She yaps in response. "Okay, okay. I'll get up." I rub my eyes and swivel around on my bottom to set my legs on the floor. My feet meet the soft rug, and I wiggle my toes. I sit on the edge of the bed for a minute, closing my eyes, thinking...

And now I'm ready to start my day. Betsy eagerly follows me as I trudge down the stairs and shuffle over to her corner. She watches intently as I crouch to dump the food from its storage jar into her bowl, and immediately digs in once I get back up. I rummage through Robert's pantry, looking for anything edible. He has a many boxes of pasta and even more canned jars of...ginger root? How odd. I'd never thought about what that man eats until now. I gather all the ingredients I need and start cooking. His stove looks like it hasn't been touched in years, and knowing him, it probably hasn't.

...

I sit down at his dining table, setting my steaming bowl of pasta right in front of me. I am about to dig in when a pang of loneliness hits me, and I my gut drops. I reach for my phone desperately, needing human contact. I find Amanda's contact page and hit the "FaceTime" button. As the call rings, I take a bite into a piece of ravioli. The call goes through, and a sense of joy floods me when I see her smiling face.

"Hey, Amanda!" I say while chewing on the pasta.

"Sup, Dad. What are you eating?" She says, squinting to look closer at me.

"Ravioli." I continue munching on the delicious food.

"So...is there a reason why you called me?"

"Don't be rude, Amanda. I called you to say hello."

"Well, Hi." She waves at her camera. From what I can see, she's sitting at her desk in her dorm room.

I swallow my food before starting my next sentence. "You doing homework right now?"

"Trying to," she shrugs.

I prop my phone up against a napkin holder on the table so that I don't have to hold it anymore. "That's good," I reply.

"Yeah..." she sighs. "It's been a lot lately. I didn't know—wait, where are you?" Confusion races across her face.

"Huh? I'm at home," I say slowly. I then realize that I, in fact, am not at home. "Wait, I'm not."

"Yeah, I figured. You with someone right now?"

"No no, this is Robert's place. I slept over last night and I just woke up." I slice into another ravioli with my fork and shove it into my mouth.

Amanda flashes a dirty smile at me. "You slept over with Mr. Small, huh?" she teases.

My eyes widen, and I choke on the ravioli. "Amanda, no! He's not at home right now, I'm housesitting for—do not make inappropriate jokes like that!"

She stifles a laugh. "Sorry, sorry. Where's he at, then?"

"He's uh... at... gone on a trip right now," I say longingly, getting distracted by thinking about Robert.

"Oh. Well, that's cool. Anything else you need to tell me before I drown in this research paper?"

"I need to tell you something important, actually," a stern tone fills my voice, and she picks up on it immediately. "It's...the doctor told me that it was serious." Her face goes dark with horror and anticipation. "It's...I've been diagnosed with something fatal. It's my love for you, and it can't be cured no matter what."

She rolls her eyes so hard that I think she might damage them. "God, you almost got me. I guess I love you too. I really gotta go, talk later?"

"Sure. I miss you, Manda."

"I miss you too, Dad. See ya!" She hangs up, and her face disappears from my screen. I look down at my bowl, then back up at my phone. I'm lost in thinking about what Robert would do if he were here. What dumb jokes he'd be making. What goofy smiles he flashes at me when I least expect them. Fuck, I'm so deeply in love. I need something to fill my emptiness, and quick. I get up and scramble through his drawers, desperately looking for a pen and paper. I eventually manage to gather the materials needed, and I begin writing my letter.

_Robert,_

_This is Christopher. Well, I guess you already knew that from the envelope. But if you didn't, now you know. I am writing to you because I want you to know how I'm doing. I got a job at the pet shelter, and I'm really happy working there. Cute dogs and paperwork: my two favorite things._

_Anyways, I don't want to get too sappy but... I really miss you. A whole lot. I miss the time we spent together. I know that those times aren't over, but they went by too soon. You made me so happy, and I feel like I got to learn about a whole new part of myself after being with you. What I'm trying to say is—You mean a lot to me. I hope you know that. During this time of healing for you, remember me. Don't worry about me, but remember me. Remember how much I like you._

_Sorry if that was too much. I've been thinking about you a lot. Please write back if you can; I'd love to hear about how you're doing. But don't feel pressured to do so. Take as much time as you need. I'm patiently waiting for you._

_p.s. Betsy is doing really well. She seems to be eating perfectly fine._

_Hugs and Kisses,_

_Christopher_

I hope that wasn't too mushy for him. I don't really know if he's into that stuff, but it's the only way I know how to express myself. I seal the folded paper in an envelope and pull out Robert's handwritten note to me so that I can address it properly. After placing a stamp in the corner, I get up to walk to the mailbox. Coming out of nowhere, Betsy falls in line behind me, promptly following me with every step I take.

"You wanna come with?" I ask her. She responds by staring back with beady eyes. I allow her to follow me out of the front door, and the autumn air chills me once again. I quickly stride over to the community mailbox to drop off the letter.

"Who's that for?" A familiar voice calls out from behind me. I quickly turn around to meet eyes with a gorgeous and tall blonde man.

"Oh, Joseph! Hey! I was just, uh, it's for a friend."

"Where have you been?" He completely ignores my answer. "Long time no see, bud."

I rub the back of my head. "Yeah, I've been pretty busy lately. I got a job at the pet shelter, and I'm housesitting for Robert too," I explain, glancing down at Betsy.

Joseph follows my line of sight, and when he sees Betsy, he falters for a moment. He looks at her with longing eyes, then snaps out of it and reaches down to pet her. She gladly accepts his treatment. "I see," he begins, wanting to continue, but he can't seem to make the words come out of his mouth. He stops petting the dog and looks back up at me. His eyes are filled with apprehension, his mouth slightly agape, trying to speak, but unable to. The awkwardness creates a black hole between us, distorting time and space as we know it. I feel as if I'm being pulled toward him, drained of all willpower as I near the singularity.

"Well, I better get going. I have, um..." I can't think of a single excuse to be busy. "I have to go." I quickly slip the letter into the outgoing mail slot and nod to Joseph, who is still frozen in place. He manages to nod back, then produces a key from his pocket. I quickly scoop Betsy up and walk away to avoid anymore tension, hearing him unlock his mailbox in the distance. I bring Betsy back to her home, giving her some goodbye snuggles before closing the door and heading back to my place.

I shut the door behind me, closing my eyes and letting out a sigh. Time to cry under a blanket until nightfall.


	11. Interlude 1

_Robert quietly opens his door to leave his dwelling. He walks to the main lobby of the rehabilitation center to grab a cup of water before bed. Before he can get to the water machine, a worker stops him. He calls Robert’s name, murmuring something about curfew and shoving a white envelope into his hands. Robert continues to retrieve his water and returns to his dwelling._

_He sits down on the bed, turning on the bedside lamp to look at the envelope he received. When he sees Chris’s name neatly printed in the return address, his heart skips a beat. His eyes widen and he starts trembling. He turns the envelope over, hand hesitant to slip under the seal. He wasn’t expecting this. He had forgotten that he gave Chris the address. He had definitely not forgotten about Chris—he thinks about him almost every waking second of his days. Receiving this from him, having a piece of Chris to hold on to, something for him to cherish…it grounds Robert. His finger tears the seal apart with one smooth motion. He removes the folded paper, the material feeling crisp between his fingers. He turns it over to reveal the written side, and his heart starts racing. He begins reading._

_…_

_Robert’s heart pounds in his chest, threatening to break free. He’s hot and sweaty, and he doesn’t know how to feel. He looks around in fear of anyone witnessing this breakdown, but of course, he’s in the privacy of his own dwelling. The only thing left to do now is cry. So he does it. Robert’s hot tears flood down his face from his sore eyes, and he starts heaving heavily. The emotion overwhelms him, and he’s laying sideways on his bed, body convulsing. He sobs and sobs, thinking about how lucky he is to have someone so supportive. He almost doesn’t believe it, and when he rubs his eyes dry, he rereads the letter, making sure he doesn’t miss a single word. He starts crying again, just staring at the handwritten masterpiece. He can’t stop weeping; he wants to see this kid again so badly._

_Robert cries into the night, unable to do anything but._


	12. Empty Invitations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As the holidays near, Christopher faces himself.

I wake up to the loud ringing of my phone. I quickly grab it, squinting at the caller ID. When I see that it’s Amanda, I immediately pick up. 

“Hello?” I croak.

“Hey, Dad!” She excitedly answers. “Whatcha doin’?”

“I just woke up, Amanda.”

“Well get ready, because I’m coming home tonight!”

“WHAT?” I shoot out of bed and land on my feet. I wasn’t ready.

“Yeah! My last class of the semester was yesterday, so I booked a flight myself! Isn’t that, like, hella adult of me?”

I can’t contain my smile. “Yeah, yeah it is,” I agree. “What time do you land? So I can pick you up?”

“It’s… at uh…” a long pause. “I’ll check and text you later. I have to go now, my Uber’s here! Seeya!” 

_Beep._ The call ends. Wait, what’s an…Uber? Whatever, that doesn’t matter; I’m too excited right now. I’d completely forgotten that it was the holiday season; I guess work and depression really distort time like that. After a long moment of silence, I finally manage to leave my room. I’ve spent the last few weeks working my ass off, and I’m ready for a break. Damien helped me get a few extra vacation days from my manager at the pet shelter, and I’ve spent the first few of them doing nothing but drowning in bed. No matter what I do, I can’t take my mind off of Robert. I’m constantly worrying about him, wondering what he’s doing, if he’s okay, when he’ll come back to me… Perhaps Amanda will pull me back into reality. 

***

I take the entire afternoon cleaning the house, trying to make it look presentable. Like I’d actually been taking care of myself. I’m worried that Amanda will find out how depressed I am right now. I’m sure she already has so much to deal with—looking after her own father would just make things harder. _You can handle yourself, Chris. You’ve got this._ A phone alert interrupts my internal pep talk.

“hey im getting on my flight landing in two hours. 8 pm. so excited 2 see u. :)” the text from Amanda reads. I smile, but pang of nervousness hits me. Why am I nervous to see my own daughter? Is it that I haven’t seen her since she left? She’s still the same person, right? Of course she is; she hasn’t changed since her toddler years. She has only expanded on her already beautiful self.

I put my phone down to finish up the rest of the cleaning. 

***

There is only half an hour until Amanda’s flight lands, so I grab my keys and begin to head out my front door. I freeze in my tracks when I see a silhouette outside. _A killer,_ my paranoid mind instantly tells me. I dash into the nearest room and peek out from around the wall. The figure seems to be leaning against the wall, unmoving. I sneak up to the door and look through the peephole. Oh, thank goodness. It’s Joseph. I open the door, and he steps back, startled. 

“Uh…hi, Joseph…” My greeting is more of a question.

He takes his sweet time to respond, only staring into my eyes. “Hey, Christopher. Uh…” he can’t seem to finish his sentence no matter how hard he tries.

“Is there a reason you’re standing on my front porch alone?” That came out harsher than I had intended.

“I just-I didn’t-I don’t know…no.” he seems a little defeated.

“No, no, I didn’t mean it like that, Joseph! You’re always welcome here! It’s just—I didn’t expect to see you right now, that’s all.”

I patiently wait for his response. “Yeah…” he mutters. His eyes look dim.

“Is there anything I can do for you?” I ask, genuinely worried. He seems to be inebriated. I can tell from the way he’s slumped over, his heavy and sunken eyes, and the distantly pained expression on his face. “…Are you okay?”

He slowly nods, closing his eyes as he does. “Yeah, Chris. I think I’m…I think I’m fine.” His words linger in my brain. Why did that feel so weird? _Oh, he called me Chris. Only Robert has ever called me that._ “I just wanted to…I don’t know. I don’t know how I got here.” He laughs a little at his own confusion, but nothing is humorous in his tone. He sounds…sad. Heartbroken.

“Okay, Joseph. I think you need to go get some rest at home. I’m picking Amanda up right now. Do you need me to drive you to your house?” I advance, pushing myself out of my own front door.

He steps back more, letting me go. “No, that’s okay. Go see your daughter… happy holidays!” He calls to me as I’m already getting into my car. 

“You too!” I holler back, shooting him a supportive smile. And with that, I drive off. 

As I head closer into the heart of the city, more and more lights twinkle around me. There’s something so calming about being in this busy place. Everything is so unique and new; it’s like a new adventure every time I come here. _I should go on more drives like this_ , I think to myself. _Maybe it’ll take my mind off things._ I start reminiscing on my days past, how crazy and fast things used to be. Every night I was always with different people, never sure of what was to come next. I’m not sure if I miss that or not, but it was definitely better than my life now. 

I’m so caught up in my thoughts that I almost miss a turn. I refocus on the road, drowning out the distractions. I know where I’m going. 

 

But I’m still so lost.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (sorry this one's a little short. it's not really a filler but i couldn't bring myself to write things just for plot convenience)


	13. Requiem

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Amanda comes home.
> 
> "I owe it all to you."

Amanda’s face lights up when she sees me, and we’re both running towards each other, pushing passersby out of the way. We collide and I redirect my momentum to scoop her up in a big hug, and she giggles in the air. After I set her down, we smile at each other for a very long time. 

“How are you?” I ask.

“I’m… great I guess! I’m just so excited!” She hollers, jumping up and down with joy. She’s wearing a new red jacket, but her hair is tied up with her usual yellow ribbon.

“That’s great! How’s school? You thinking of dropping out yet?”

“Ha! I wouldn’t pass this up for a lifetime. The workload is kicking my ass,” I let the profanity slide, “but I think I can handle it. Classes are so much fun now! No more of that stupid busy work.”

“I’m so glad you’re enjoying it. College for me was…an interesting time. But that’s a story for later. Let’s go pick up your bag.” I push her toward the luggage claim, following close behind. Once her army green duffel bag makes the round, she snatches it from the conveyor belt and shouts, “Let’s go!” 

During the car ride back home, she rambles on and on about the wild experiences she’s already had, the projects she’s the most proud of, and her new friends.

“Good to hear that you’re liking it,” I comment, mostly focusing on the road.

“You kidding me? I _love_ it!” She sits back and takes a deep breath to recover from her talking. After a brief silence, she turns to me. “Thank you.” The sincerity and happiness in her voice cuts into me, and I glance at her to acknowledge the gesture. 

“Of course, Manda. I love you.”

“No really, Dad. This is the best I have ever felt in my life. I owe it all to you.”

“Don’t let me steal your credit. You wouldn’t have gotten those scholarships if you didn’t work your ass off in high school. You deserve this.”

She smiles and looks out the window, lost in thought. “Thank you,” she repeats quietly. As we move away from the bustling city and ascend to the rolling hills, the sun is submerged by the horizon. We sit in silence for the rest of the ride, thinking. _She’s come so far. She even looks older now, only after a semester… I hope she’s still the same innocent little panda. Nothing will change that, right?_

***

As soon as I pull into the driveway, Amanda hops out and dashes inside. 

“Wait, your bag!” I call. She’s already gone. I grumble as I park the car and reach in the back to retrieve her bag. I pull on it, but it’s a lot heavier than it looks. With great effort, I finally manage to get it inside. I set it gently by the dinner table, wary that something fragile might be inside. I take a seat, exhausted after the long drive. I close my eyes, trying to clear my head.

“Where’s Robert?” Amanda’s voice startles me, and I look up to see her standing in the kitchen doorway with a slice of toast in her hand. She takes a bite and starts chewing, waiting for my answer.

“He’s uh, at…” For a moment, I forget why he’s missing. “Oh, he’s just on a trip.” I don’t know why I decide to lie to Amanda. She slightly cocks her head, unsure if she’s willing to accept my answer. 

Eventually, she just shrugs. “Okay. When’s he coming back?”

I look away, trying to hide the fact that I have been asking myself the same exact question over and over for the past few months. “I’m not exactly sure. But I’ll tell him you said hi.”

She shrugs again and turns around. “Cool. I’m gonna go to bed. I'm exhausted out of my mind and I miss its comfort. Night, Dad.”

I don’t have any reason to keep her up, so I allow it. “Night, Manda. Sweet dreams.” The familiar thumps of her feet on the stairs echo around the whole house, reminding me of what it was like to live with someone. I decide that it’s time to write another letter. Even though Robert didn’t reply to my last one, I’m sure that he got it. He’s probably just busy.

 

_Dear Robert,_

_I’m sorry that I haven’t been writing to you a lot. I’ve been working so hard lately. Amanda came home today; I just picked her up from the airport. She says hi to you. She even asked when you were coming back._

_I want to know the same thing. I know that sounds selfish of me, but I really miss you. I want you to take your time, however. I know that this will be good for you. You mean the whole world to me. Did I say that in the last letter? Oh well. You need a reminder._

_Please write back if you get the chance._

_Your friend,  
_ _Chris_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another short one. I swear that change is coming.


	14. Announcement

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> <3

I'm sorry to say this to anyone who was following this story, but simply stated: I lost inspiration. You may have deducted this from the fact that my last update was over two months ago.

I will not be continuing this particular story anymore, but I will leave it up if anybody wants to reread it.

But fear not! I still have so much love for Robert, Mary, Jim and Kim's, and everything about this character arc, so...

*drum roll*

I am working on a new Robert story! Yes! More Dream Daddy content!

I was just unhappy with the direction that my first story was headed in, and I didn't want to wrap it up so abruptly. So, I will be starting over. I hope you guys are still interested in this game and will continue to support my writing. Thank you!

~ Update coming soon

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this quite a while ago, I'm just migrating some of my work to this website, as I'm a new user. Please excuse the bad writing lol. I'm not sure how many chapters this will have, but expect a lot (I have 9 written so far).


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